The Battlefield of Life

Life

Life is like a battlefield which only we face
Warring and opposing sides take arms
And the events that surround the person are but foretastes
And signs of things to come

We are the objective
We are the town that must be conquered
Or the aim that must be met
To secure victory

Our mind is torn
Thoughts swirl and enter and leave their mark
Much like soldiers moving to and fro
They don't have a strong desire to be there
But the greater objective of conquest
Is greater than their own blasé expression

The thoughts grow and overtake the mind
They continue their fight, but the thoughts change
The human being fights against these thoughts
As he ages, thoughts start to further ravage the mind

Battle turns into mere fighting
And the fighting spirit begins to leave the man
The man begins to lose ground
And the forces of death converge on the man

The last forces of life
Those soldiers dedicated to maintaining the spirit of the man on the Earth
Meet their defeat in the earthly realm
Finally, death triumphs over the forces of life

The battle is won; the man dies
It seems as though the final objective—
The objective of victory—has been secured
At least in the earthly existence, it has

The man's accomplishments
His talents
His aims
His goals
His mind
His body
All rot and decay
And in due time
Fade into complete and total nothingness

The forces of death have won over life
But if one believes in a life after the death
Then the man, in dying, has won the war
And held the forces of death to remain on the Earth
Where they can no longer attack him
Or make him into a mere target
Of their stratagems and aims