The eternal war
Autor: Galadan
going on year for year,
every day, every single minute.
Cold, hard chains of discipline
against hot, gnawing desires,
emotionless, pure logic
against sinfull, demanding instincts
are the cruel weapons in the battle.
Two combatants, tough and mercyless,
fighting hard for every inch.
The mind, civilsated and heartless,
tries to enslave the beast, wild and proud.
Voices are floating over the battlefield:
whispers of fear,
asking for help;
yells of anger,
demanding blood;
cries of pain,
begging for salvation.
The battlefield himself
wounded and torn apart,
quaking from every fight,
winding in helplessness:
The soul drowning in insanity.