Pyrrhic

I want to give an order
to the amerity on my lips
the bitterness of cocoa
when victory fast slips

Away to hidden chambers
lost to choice or chance
and so our competition goes
from past pride to power's dance

To you I entrust a battle,
Losers and winners alike
tears and swords a rattle
wars with solitude tonight

Underneath every "win"
flows a river gold
but sometimes that water's
poisoned

at least
that's what I've been

?old.