The night is like a curtain

Outside my window

It is indifferent to me

I’ve worked my entire life

To be a winner

But losing has a thing for me

While my pen wonders when

I’ll quit her

Only if your words stop singing to me

Chorus:

It’s a losing battle

In a proxy war

Toy soldiers lined up

On the killing floor

Someone dies for their reason

Another adjusts the score

Take me to our bedroom

Beyond this locked door

The victor’s narrative

Is an attractive incentive

Recalibrating chance as clarity

I’ve never been overly

Inventive

Assessing its relationship to me

Seeking an unbiased

Outsider perspective

To diagnose ambitious purity