like runes etched on the ancient marble stone,
i fail to comprehend what bothers you,
i come near to deciphering your troubles,
i come near to tending your wounds,
but something stops me, some force i see not,
i struggle in its wrath, to break free and be there with you,
i try to stop the force by telling the importance of me being free,
i fail in convincing the force to release me, the force leaves me no choice but to fight.
spikes and daggers, blood and burns, wounds and wisdom,
i fight with a million forces, not enemies, within me and out of me,
i surrender to a few, i enslave a few, i fight with distaste for battle,
i yet offer a peace treaty with the force,in midst of such raging battle,
i offer to comeback and surrender, if…
if it let’s me out for now, for this moment,
the moment i intend to tend to your wounds and memories,
to heal and to raise your spirits,
and then my work will be done,
and once again, i will be at fate’s bidding.
the force releases me from its wrath,
there was not a split second gap between me being set free and i stopping my fight and sprint.
the force believes it is my destiny to comeback and lose.
i pity the force.
where i am going now is my destiny,
and where i return hence forth, as promised, is just a ‘destination’.
Force, you may win over me in muscle and mind,
see for yourself whom you fight against,
you fight one whose destiny is to love and spread peace,
do you really think your win over me is the end of it?