The night is like a curtain
Outside my window
It is indifferent to me
I’ve worked my entire life
To be a winner
But losing has a thing for me
While my pen wonders when
I’ll quit her
Only if your words stop singing to me
Chorus:
It’s a losing battle
In a proxy war
Toy soldiers lined up
On the killing floor
Someone dies for their reason
Another adjusts the score
Take me to our bedroom
Beyond this locked door
The victor’s narrative
Is an attractive incentive
Recalibrating chance as clarity
I’ve never been overly
Inventive
Assessing its relationship to me
Seeking an unbiased
Outsider perspective
To diagnose ambitious purity
