The cold air cuts my eyes.
My vision swirling red,
And I walk through it,
Lost and easily led.

The future lies in ruins,
While I destroy the past,
The war is over, You have won,
It has beaten me at last.

But loss will always save the day,
Kicking me hard where it hurts,
As I lay blinded in the mud,
My mouth the taste of blood and dirt,
Where a broken smile slowly appears,
Because my time is almost done,
Done with coping, despite it all,
Done with dreaming and standing tall.

This boy's race is run.