Victory and Defeat

Victory seems a slim hope, a vain hope.
But still I soldier on, nothing else to do.
Defeat seems imminent. What can be salvaged?
Still I soldier on, obeying the vague commands of
perceived destiny.

Of course defeat was inevitable, but for who?
For us? For them?

It occurs to me that Victory and Defeat are
inseparably mated, and we are but helpless
victims of both, becoming intimately acquainted
through time with both sides of this dichotomy.

One wonders if there is a Final Defeat, or
a Final Victory.

Unknown, but some guess not.
Some guess that both Victory and Defeat
wither and die and are ultimately forgotten
along with Victor and Vanquished.

The most that either can hope for is to become
an historical footnote. At least that's what some
guess. At least that's what some hope, those
who wish to assuage the bitterness of Final
Defeat, if there really is a Final Defeat, which
if there is there will also be Final Victory.
Because you're never going to see Defeat
(Interim or Final) by itself. It's always going
to be accompanied by its inevitable companion,
Victory (Interim or Final).

You're always going to see Victory with
Defeat. They're a team, bringing unjustified
pride to some, even preserving life, at least
for a while, and fully justified humility to others,
often bringing death. You see, sometimes,
though not always, Death is also a companion of
Victory and Defeat.