I hate writing as much as I love it.
Struggling with words a all-out war.
Victory is a pipe dream, I mourn the lost words.
Regrets’ as many as unfulfilled dreams .
I no longer care about both.
Exhausted but never giving up, I love the struggle.
The hate makes me feel alive.
The struggle a embrace that I cherish.
Defeat turned turned into a empty victory.
Nothing makes sense I write , I love the madness .