Imprisoned within walls of self-ambition, hostage to success...
In the meanwhile, there is light; Balance drawn closer elsewhere. Giving of a steady context, while quenching thoughts of lonely days.
Nevertheless, inquisition circumvents the dense shell of confidence, to poke at the soft underbelly of unease. A herald of mischief, brought forth to proclaim his supposed right to besmirch that which is held dear and treasured.
As if to gainsay the successes for which had been so ardently fought. And though laced with credulity, the breath is rotten, decayed by a cynical over-bearance.
So battle is here, the clash begun and mine is thus; To do penance and ramify the projected tactic as best I can. To resist therefore, the urge to assail this foe with acrimonious wrath. Instead, to brandish the outward sense of one subdued to another will.
Whilst the fire of retaliation languishes as embers within.