The Good Fight

Consider the odds
Consider the obvious
The martyr is meaningless
The campaign has died
In the planning stages and the fallen faces
Are the singular proof it was ever alive
This purchased rebellion has been outbidded
Denounced and rescinded and left to die championless
I begged you not to go
I begged you, I pleaded
Claimed you as my only hope
And watched the floor as you retreated
Hope has sprung a perfect dive
A perfect day, a perfect lie
A slowly crafted monologue conceding your defeat
Does it comfort you to know you fought the good fight?
Basking in your victory, hollow and alone
You boast your bitter bragging rights to anyone who’ll listen
While you’re left with nothing tangible to gain