Commen enemy

Commen enemy.
How can one feel so strog.
Yet look so weak?
As i stare at my reflection.
I turn away in disgust.
I am my own enemy.
Fight i have to fight!
Yet i can not move.
Move!
I have no control.
I am so tired.
So tired.
But it has barely began.
I am being eaten away.
Like a cat eating a mouse.
Like a demon eats a soul.
Gorging... devouring.
All evidence of my existence wiped.
Then i ask you once more.
How can one feel so strong.
Yet look so weak?
Simple.
Strength is a illusion of the mind.
Strength is false hope.
Strength is like a mirage.
Never truly there.
Then finally.
It ends.