Perplexed: Writer Vs. Fighter Poem by Locura Alaam

Sometimes I really wonder:
'Was I born to think and ponder? '
I can't find the rightest way
To phrase what I do have to say
Words are failing my mind
Them, I simply cannot find
I'm supposed to 'be a writer'
As opposed to 'be a fighter'
I have my lines, I have my pages
There are fists, and bloody rages
On my one, my comrades fall
'Til all is lost, and lost is all
And I am left on my own
It's how it's bound to be my dawn
Whether a writer, whether a fighter
Nothing whiter, nothing brighter
All the same, I'm not so sane
It locked its aim, and feeds me pain