Enemy

Here's a little fairy tale
Which explains the reason why
Even strongest fighters fail,
Even brightest souls die.

Once, long ago, there lived a man
Who was an outstanding knight.
He always told himself "I can",
He loved to fight and lived to fight.

His enemies were falling down
Like grass on scythe under his sword,
And everyone in every town
Admired his steady loud word.

But once the knight began to sink
In sadness, he began to dream,
He watched a torch light up and wink
In thoughts, what was so wrong with him.

He said "I can!" again, again,
But in his heart there was no war,
But only endless heavy pain,
And hopeless dreams. And nothing more.

He couldn't sleep. He couldn't move.
He couldn't eat, and breathe, and speak.
And then, to tell the certain truth,
All victories he'd earned seemed weak...

Because he met another foe,
That makes it all look black and white,
And no one ever could before
Escape from it, though many tried.

This killing foe he couldn't beat.
It like a torment hung above.
This enemy all people...need.
The name for enemy was Love.