Foot Soilder

Marching down the plains of life
Ever closer to the valley of death
Its drawing me into iot
Luring me towards its grasses
The intoxicating scent looms
Swelling over me, enveloping
Loosing balance, dulled senses
Its growing colder with every step
The valley is so close
I long for a drink in its waters
To wash away the pain so great
For a freedom from my frailties
My race is almost over
Which triggers a thought
What if life isn't a race
Not an obstacal course
But a test of endurance
Life is not a contest I can afford to loose
I need to win life, because I lost you
So fight I will, fight I must
I turn around, ripping away
From the intoxication I long for
Walking away, fighting with myself
My new path is not an easy one
Thorns where there were once roses
Blood replaces cool streams
All the beauty is gone now
The ugly truth replaces lies
Beautiful lies, which I long to believe
But not the truth is leaving its mark
Blood dripping down my legs
Staining my life with a pigment of crimson
There are now two streams
One of blood flowing slow
Another of salt water flowing fast
Filled by tear, inspired by fears
Pushing forward moving on
But the cold won't depart
I'm bleeding faster from my broken heart
Slowly dying, despite all trying
Its over, its done
I've lost it all