A Losing Battle

It's a losing battle with your conscience my dear
There's nothing left when there's nothing to fear

Bitten by dull steel, the brief resonating throng of notes
Sweet vibrations against my weary ears
I can sense the hilt in my hand beckoning my soul
But I won't let it hurt me; I know that I'm not ready

Can you truly live as the thief you have become?
Stealing and bribing and blackmailing my heart
It was never love; it will never be love

It's a losing battle with your conscience my dear
There's nothing left when there's nothing to fear

Purple roses slowly cascading through my blushing skin
So deep do they penetrate my mind
Sweet cherry blossom, seems crimson against my flesh
So sweet, sickly sweet in my fever

Parading in my thoughts as I reminisce
My dull memoirs lying unfinished
Still bound tightly
Protected from the harsh winds of your temper

It's a losing battle with your conscience
There is nothing left when there's nothing to fear

I'm caught in the hands of some archaic prophecy
Dictating my life, setting me to rights
Strange how possibility and revelation are forgotten
Steady and so slowly they are lost in time