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77. Losing Wars

My own misery has started to take pity on me,
Butterflies nibbling at my nerve.
Monarchs with jaw full of rigid canines,
Ready to deliver my soul what it deserves.

Cowardice be gone! Yet it loathes the underworld,
Therefore it lingers on me like a leech on puffed flesh.
No matter how greatly I yearn to break it down,
Bravery is beheaded and despair is refreshed!

My heart is a few beats away from extinction,
Yet I ponder and meander around aimlessly.
No purpose, no emotion, no loving, no joy,
With genuine misfortune teasing and enveloping me.

The truth is that I love being a little less than my best,
And I thoroughly enjoy losing clamorous wars.
But maybe, just one time, I can decapitate cowardice,
So that I would not have to be afraid anymore.
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