Choices

Can we dig ourselves out; out of the hole that we spin?
Or do we continue to wind the clock further in?

Is it too easy to let go, or is it too hard to fight?
The tests that we fail and some seem to blight.

The choices of strife, there are all around us, but we're too weak to stand,
Against the feelings that betray us and the shortcomings of man.

A struggle as old as time, waged against our own kind,
A war that never dies, is one where shadows lie,
They feed the hunger, but quench the wrong thirst;

So is it harder to battle then it is easier to consume?
That's the choice that comes with a tomb.