he, conquest

it came to be
alas, i am tired
i brush you off
with wicked indifference
to exist in
hold onto
subtle satisfaction
i swallow my pride
in search for
understanding
clinging to my dignity
amongst the rubble
of defeat
in the wake of your shadow
and with the strength of anew
i learn to accept
and allow myself
the pleasure to walk away
for the toll i knew
to be heavy
for it twas
a route never taken
many bruises were to be had
but not one scar
i kept me safely
tucked
inside myself
surrounded by walls
layered with
an antagonistic reality
of who I pretended to be
i laugh at the plausible
the possible
the moments
we did have
our words
the tension created
exhausted our reasons
for the adventure
in whole
our individual challenge
to which gave worth
to every passing day
the competition
our need for power
the inevitable conquest
an achievement
lost within the confusion
of many tiny moments
are all bundled here
for this is where they shall stay
on some shelf
tossed into yesterday