I give up,so i win,
from the long drawn out
contest of wills it has been
it seems we both haggle
for want of a fair deal
and for there to be a we-
I must first lose me,
Sacrifice my pride at the altar of my being.

So I submit to victory,
to flee from the past
explorer of the future-
rather than student of history
I stand steadfast
In my quest to yield
to this free-fall feeling-
that seems to be the only thing
anchoring me.

For never has there been
so lovely an adversary
and in the terrible uncertainity we feel,
as we stand apart in this mine-filled battlefield
I see,
if I am to be a casualty
It is to be at your hand.
that and none other.

© kevin gachuma