Fighting for My Centre

Things have changed
My melancholic trials
Are not quite as they were
They feel calmer somehow
Still reaching down, down, down
But closer to frozen
Closer to still 

I’m not sure why my war has changed
But it seemed reduced to two dominating powers

One one side
Thoughts of the end permeate
Ideation intensifies
The inevitability of approaching doom
Feel closer now than ever before
The ideal it fights for
Is absolute eradication
Leaving not even a ruined battlefield behind
For anyone to conquer
My heart is holding it tighter
Doom is meshing with my identity
On its way to becoming my truth

Opposing that
Hope for a worthiness found
Is still surviving
Fortified in its resupply
A friend has connected, accepted
Such that I start to have hope
That maybe I’ve been mistaken
That maybe my view of myself
Has been a little skewed after all
And maybe if this hope holds the line
This battlefield will be conquered
And preserved 

These two fight for my centre 
For a focused, straight line to my core self
They compete for prime territory
For the fertile lands that feed my will

Will these lands will be divided in truce
Tenuously still
Scarred with new centre lines
Drawn from each side
Ever quivering on the edge
One misstep away from another
Violent outbreak 

Or will one side feel total victory
This landscape being either completely healed
Or banished to oblivion, annihilated
When the dust has settled

November 24-28, 2024