No battles left, no flags to raise,
No longing for the golden days.
No weight of pride, no shameful skin—
Nothing to lose, and nothing to win.
The game is done, the board is bare,
The pieces scattered, no one cares.
No ticking clock, no final spin,
No start, no end—just what’s within.
The road ahead is not a race,
No need to chase, no need to brace.
Just step by step, with quiet grin,
No desperate loss, no hollow win.
It’s freedom sharp as mountain air,
A kind of peace so raw, so rare.
No promises to break or pin—
Just silence humming deep within.
And maybe that’s the sweetest part,
No scoreboard etched upon the heart.
No chains of “must,” no weight of “when”—
Just breath, just now, and back again.
Thank-you for reading.
Much Love and Light,
Brenda Marie Fluharty
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