Life: A Never-Ending Struggle
Between the walls of flesh and bone,
A battle rages, fierce, unknown.
The self within, the world outside,
Two restless tides that clash and collide.
The self, a whisper, soft yet strong,
A dreamer lost, a seeker wronged.
It longs for peace, for skies so wide,
Yet storms arise and drown the tide.
The world, a voice both loud and bold,
A tale of power, wealth, and gold.
It pulls, it bends, it shapes the way,
Demanding masks for us to play.
The self resists, yet yields in part,
A war between the mind and heart.
To fit, to fight, to walk alone,
To find a place yet stay our own.
The hands of time do carve their mark,
Through endless dawns and nights so dark.
Yet through the struggle, pain, and strife,
We learn the art of shaping life.
For balance rests not in the war,
But in the dance between the core.
The self and world, a woven thread,
Neither destroyed, neither misled.
So onward march, though torn, though tired,
With soul unchained and heart inspired.
For in this fight, we rise, we see—
The war itself sets the self free.
