it won't leave me.

I live in a constant state of disarray.

Of perpetual sorrow.

But I choose it every time.

Fight you say?  And to what end?  To fail again?

Perhaps.  Is growth ensued through victory, then to merely be tarnished and trampled by defeat?

I fear this is the case, and that my lot in life has been cast in the cosmos.

Perhaps there is hope in what little I know of grace.