Old lessons, renewed

We walk down the roads of life with old friends and enemies, always hand in hand with both. Demons to be conquered are not distant windmills looming terror, a la Don Quixote- the worst demons are the small shadows that cling to our feet- weightless little things that we'd never observe, yet strong enough to pull us down. Strip them off and loose their grip, then we look up to find that the windmills were only their reflections in the pools of our fear.