Siege

Into the morass once more,
Melancholy's both my blade and my armor.
Phantoms whisper, hands crossed behind
their backs,
'Find your strength in the darkness,
Maybe even in the sinking sands.'
Out of the corner of my eye, a glimpse
of a knife that catches the light, and grins.
Resignation dampens fear, the knife is driven home
but something dawns, as it sinks in.
The peaceful are at siege, both without and within.