---
Going to a war,
a sword in my hand, a shield by my side.
I was meant to fight,
but hope's like this coward--trying to hide.One day, I let my armor fall--
forgetting the light--
'cause I don't care if I can still
survive the fight.I became too tired,
and I don't wanna think
about all of the
perspective switches' link.I became too tired
to entertain them, introducing
places that never exist...
just let them do the explaining.I became too tired
to listen to events told by them
'cause this lady knows
they didn't really happen.A voice was heard
through my mind,
and believe me,
it's better not to find.It said, "Even if you led
a great, great win,
you can still be a forgotten
hero or heroine."One day, I let my armor fall--
bathed with fright,
but at some point, I still did
survive the fight.Returned from a war,
your hand in my hand, you by my side.
I was meant to fight,
but being saved mustn't be a fact to hide.---
YOU ARE READING
Finite Infinitives
Poetry𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙄𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨 ╰ a c o m p i l a t i o n o f p o e m s ╰ c o m p l e t e d "I haven't done everything I want, but in the realm of reams, I already did some."