Looks like once again I was right

I would never take part in the fight

Looks like I won the gamble,

So there isn't anything to grumble.

Yet why do I feel such emotions

Why am I such a flawed creation

Even though I know my strengths,

I refuse to acknowledge them.

Even though I know my weaknesses,

I persist using them.

I hate to lose,

But I don't really care for winning.

In the end I'm just indecisive.

I'm accustomed to that feeling.

I thought I found a reason,

I thought I had a motivation.

In the end I couldn't hold on to it.

I just backed into my retreat.

I need a new purpose, a new objective.

A new close, a reason to live.

Like a bird in the sky flying free,

I need a need to be happy.

There isn't anything else left for me.

Except for that mundane routine.

Doing nothing for the world I see.

Watching others commit nothing but sin.

I guess I'm tired,

Or just grown old.

See how easily I am satisfied,

Yet I want to try to be bold.

Perhaps it is the curse of my name.

To be satisfied, content.

To me everything has become the same.

Nothing much to lament.