*A  snapshot of one of the characters in my book, I sat down to write about something else entirely and this came out so please, be kind.


A collision of values

swarm around the overeager fighter

Choice, chance, fate, fiction

all become meaningless in the

endless single moments of battle

Unable to stop, breathe, reprieve

or maybe unwilling to even try.

(self-destruction implies awareness.)

Here, within,

lies only the edged purity of will

skirmishing to contain

the slow, creeping seeds planted

by forces beyond time

to sow a chaos unlike the world

has ever known.

It may yet be enough.

It may yet be our end.

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