On Slowly Dying, Voluntarily

O' troubled soul.
Lost amidst the wars
and frivolities of
post-modern America.
Searching for truth
in a world uncertain,
drunk on desperation.

O' wounded heart,
crimson from battle.
Clinging to a life
that isn't yours.
Clutching swords,
sharp enough to
scar the wielder.
Where is your
battle song?
The sweet melody
of dirges, victory
tunes, too far gone
to be remembered.

O' trifled spirit,
where is your love?
Sick from war
and famine, longing
for a simpler life.
Breathe in deep,
feel emptiness
in your stomach,
tangible as cancer

Is this all you have left?
Or shall you stand up,
refuse to be
driven back by
mere arrows?