Poem: “Your Problem”

Your Problem 

Your problem, I say, is that you are not experienced in the ways of conflict.

Yet you have tumbled eagerly into conflict anyway.
Your problem is that you are hasty.
Far too hasty.
Selecting me as an enemy was not wise.
But we cannot change that now.

Here we are.
This is not revenge.
This is not spite.
This is not an eye for an eye.

My dear, this is war.

And your problem is that you have chosen to fight someone who breathes war.
Who knows it intimately well,
who doesn’t mind the bloodshed.

You thought that because you made the first cut,
took the first life,
conquered the first battalion,
that you won.
Your problem is that you are a fool.
And now you are resting on your laurels,
enjoying your bounty,
admiring your spoils.
Ah, you think, it is over. My life can begin at last.
But your problem is that you assumed this battle would be the final one.

You are a newborn to pain.
Your defenses cannot hold against me.
You do not know strategy.
I will lull you to complacency.
I will let you have your moment.
And all the while,
I will poison your people,
I will destroy your crops,
I will take your queen.

So you will fall, eventually.
Like all the others before you.
Because you underestimate.
Because you are a coward.
Because you are irrelevant.

And that,
is your problem.

– Written by Saratoga Schaefer, December 2018

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