War

If there is a thing,

that I much loved,

being quarantine,

being even more alone,

after years of renew,

is the comeback of the me,

the inside enclosed,

a warrior that rested,

as there was peace.

But peace was never,

just a fog it were,

and now that I see clear,

I'm unleashing all.

I've fallen already,

many times this months,

but the battles come and go.

One day this will end,

won't be today,

won't be tomorrow,

but surely a new sunset,

rising slowly,

will tell me to be ready,

again and again,

to take my spear and be ready,

as a war is won by who fought,

not by those watching by side.