War

She went to fight today,
Dressed in full armor,
Glistening sword in hand,
Courage painted on her face
Taste of the soon coming victory on her lips.

Rigorous training for this day,
Mighty among the ranks,
Stronger, faster, more cunning
With the changes of the moon.
And she knew her time had come
To show her valor, to earn her place

And so before the dawn she stood ready,
At the edge of the battle field
Staring at the impending doom,
Determined to rise victorious.

But alas a strange thing happened,
A thick fog rushed at her with blinding speed.
Engulfed her whole - bone, blood and flesh.
And she cried out! What is this sorcery?

She was stripped bare to her nothingness,
Left unconscious to the present happenings.
And then, as though pushed through the fibrous
Window of existence, she finally awoke,
In another time and place.

A new battle field.
No armor, no sword or weapons...
But wait, what is this...a machine with words.
There was no battle cry but instead,
A small voice said: you may begin....
And then she knew.

Her war was not some glorious fight of heroes,
But to conquer knowledge that was dangerously elusive.
One click, two, three...reading question after question.
Sigh, how can she fight this battle of the mind?
When her weapons were a mere sheet of paper and lead...

And so she went deep into the throes,
Awakened now from the illusion.
And she was nearly made a casualty,
Bleeding beautifully within,
And no one saw, or dragged her to the trenches for relief.

Alas, she felt her inevitable gloom,
Victory lost and defeat bitter.
She had lost the battle.
Will she win the war?