Defeated

I've been a fool and fools get hurt because they believe things that are not true. Yet as long as the fool is deluded he is beyond the reach of hurt. It is only at the moment when his eyes are opened to his foolishness, when he sees the error of his ways that he actually gets hurt. Ironically though, it is at this exact moment that his foolishness turns to wisdom and it is the wise man inside him that starts to hurt. The fool is gone with all his delirium and foolish joy and all that remains is the suffering wise man.

I've often wondered if the fool is wiser than the wise man, for the fool never allows himself to suffer and he disappears just before the hurt kicks in. He never allows himself to hang around long enough to suffer and manages to save his skin just in time. He may be wiser than the wise man in that respect; by choosing not to bear the consequences of his own delirium.

I've been a fool and now I suffer.

I hadn't thought I'd let anyone close enough to suffer such a blow. I was prepared for almost anything but life has a way of breaking you down anyway, breaking past your defenses in the way you least expect it. It takes its toll on you, walking past your guard unrecognized in the seamless clothes of a spy underneath which, the costume of a friend. One day you wake up to realize that the enemy has taken over your walls and defenses without tearing them down. Like a Trojan horse you've taken your enemy in and now your walls are crumbling from within. You've lost the battle before you even fought and all your defenses stand as they are, but you've collapsed from within.

You were once a powerful fool with a fortress that was hard to take down and now you're no longer a fool but you also no longer have a fortress. You've been defeated and your pride does not want you to believe that you have been defeated without a battle, and you react as though there's a battle to be fought.

You're weak, defeated and broken. Don't act like you're still fighting.

't is but a dark battle upon which my insides were spilt and trampled upon by my enemy, ruthless in his indifference, unaware in his ignorance of the hurt he is bestowing upon me; His ears deaf to my cries and his words swords to my heart. My back stabbed and stabbed and in my own foolishness I've asked my stabbing enemy to protect my bleeding back and protect it he does, with more stabs. My pride keeps me on my feet, and keeps my wounds remain so deep, and if I'd only fall and rest my battered back, I'd be able to get back on track.

I've fallen from a great height, I've fallen well out of sight, out of sight from all those who looked up to me, out of all the places I was meant to be.