What now is this?
A mind full of wit and intellect-
Confused and convoluted,
With stripes of mud highlighting the face.
What battles were faced in cold and dark corners,
Hidden and aiming not to be found,
Beneath the gyri and sulci,
And all of the thoughts from within?
How hard is it to watch
Your own self facing what once was,
What can be known,
And entities that could have been found?
No shield has been brought,
And definitely no weapon,
Just this mere rational mind,
Which have been strangling me.
What will I conquer
From this useless battle which I had initiated
Way before I knew all of its consequences,
In addition to all of the loses?