Legendary Poetry

Battling the enemy

Just take the pain they tell me. Who are "they" to tell me that? Who that fuck do they say that they are to tell me such a thing? They tell me that they have been there before and that they know exactly what I'm feeling. Oh really? Have you gone nights without sleep because you were in such pain that you weren't able to sleep. Have you cried out in pain and have nobody listen to you? Oh sure, it's easy for you to say that it will pass as you sit there on your high horse with no cares in the world while I wither and die from my excruciating pain.

Please, tell me how you felt the same way that I do at this exact same moment. Tell me how you curled up like a baby and cried. Tell me how you felt that the world had abandoned you and all your friends left you for dead. Tell me how you felt when you experienced that. I really want to know because I don't know what the fuck to do now. You must be so wise and experienced. Please enlighten me with your great wisdom. I'm all ears.

Your silence speaks volumes to me. You don't know what to tell me. You sit there with knowing eyes and tell me that you'll think good thoughts for me or that you will remember me in prayer. And yet, I have heard that line before. Over and over again from people just like you. Good people, or at least that's what they told me. And then, when I REALLY need them they ar nowhere to be found. Where are your good thoughts and prayers now I wonder.

I wonder. Yes, I wonder. I WONDER what happens to these 'good' people after they have gone away never to return. I WONDER if they really, truly care about me like they said. Perhaps I am too naive to understand their actions and motives? I AM mostly certain naive to believe these people. They are fake friends with motives unknown to me. I learned that I must face my pain, my enemy, on my own as my 'friends' had proven to me that they had failed me and would not be there for me when I really and truly neede them.

And yet, here I am, enduring my pain with great fortitude as if I was a noble knight at King Arthur's round table, ready to do battle and vanquish all enemies of the King. A royal and noble night in pursuit of victory over my foe, a foe so brutal and cruel that it takes not prisoners or gives no quarter. As weak as I was, I knew there was no way around dealing with my pain. It was as real as real gets. My pain was ever present with me, always close by my side, my 'good' friend who always reminded me of it's presence. And so I determined myself to be in battle with my pain, as a noble knight of old.

As any good knight, my skills were built on pride and determination. Before learning how to do battle with my enemy, I experienced first hand the brutal nature of my foe: the defeats, the hurts, the agonies, the slashing cuts, the burning wounds, the bruises, the scars, the breaks, the decimating experiences, and the crushing blows. Having experienced these brutal attacks, I began to train myself for war with my enemy.

My hands were trembling when I began. My heart raced with every attack and my breath lumbered on. It was difficult to deal with my emeny. I believed that this would change as I grew and matured with my talents. I would later learn that, although I was better at facing my enemy in the future, the enemy would attempt to prevail over me no matter what my skill or expertise was in dealing with my pain. And yet, I endured despite these short comings.

To be honest, I consider myself to be a noble knight, though not in reality. I possess no physical armor or armaments. I only have my will and a steeled soul, tarnished with the scars of the battles I have endured with the successes and failures I had experienced, which I use to face the battles in front of me. My mortal enemy is pain. I both fear it and loathe it for all it's worth. Sometimes the battle belongs to the pain. Other times, I am the victor over it. Either way, I become stronger because of it. I will NOT let pain be my master. I will not yield. I will endure.