The body is weakened

By its restless resident.

The mind groans beneath the weight

Of worries, deadlines, promises to keep.

No time for healing,

No time for preparation.

There are no beacons to light.

Friendly bonds were broken,

Stretched out by desperate use.

The old alliances are gone.

War is upon us. We stand alone.

​

The pressure and its enforced routines

Encircle us. It is a patient foe.

Surrender is not an option.

Defeat means destruction.

The wandering mind is punished by guilt.

We need what we cannot afford.

Starving for escapism,

Lack of rest hollows us out.

Physical pains and illnesses

Torment us within our cold defences.

It is only a matter of time.

Morale is low.

Vigilance wavers.

Our mental supplies are thin.

When slumber falls like snow,

The echoing horn of war

Ends our short repose.

​

Endless waves flood the land.

Our dam groans beneath their weight.

The line cannot be held.

The defences are breached.

We must retreat.

The keep is our last stand.

Imprisoned by a stone womb

We listen to the drumming of battering rams.

We are walled in. Buried alive.

Our shelter will be our tomb.

We cannot get out.

Intervals of thundering drums

Eviscerate our sleep.

Rest is always out of reach.

We are hollow.

Starvation will succeed

Where the tools of war cannot.

It is only a matter of time.

We cannot get out.

Supplies are slim.

We wait.

Time crawls forward.

Silence slowly overcomes the noise.

Hope tells us we may survive.

When the floods roll back—

IF they roll back, we may survive.

We pray for our foes’ fatigue to come.

We pray that we may outlast them.

We wait. We allow not for hope

To lure us into false relief.

We are reluctant to believe.

We wait.