Mnemosyne.

In a story
the same story 
I endure every night
I was attacked last night
my adversary was there
the temptress was there
it could have been last night
it may have been centuries ago
for everything I know
was put on hold and I could
only use my senses
I know my hands felt bound
and I was clumsy
in the smallest aspect
profoundly defenseless.

life is suffering
that can only be overcome
by wisdom and compassion
that's what it is they drum
into us night and day
those people in red and orange
in my eyes, black and grey
I turn my face away, because
I'd rather suffer in silence
than to show all my weakness
in some compromise.

don't compromise!
someday it will all get better
and you will blossom
like the fragrant flowers
you gather on the bridge
and bring pride
to your dying father
stay with him, at his side
or you yourself will simply die
and restart the cycle of life
for the good of another.