deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Fighter
You came to us,
not with your heart on your sleeve,
but in your hand.
It’s red robust rhythm,
with its welcoming wholesome warmth,
they’d never seen such singular strength.
Pure and perfect in your palm,
it shimmered and shone like a star.
They envied its power,
which they’d never be able to grasp.
They came at you with their hungry hands,
breaking away pieces of you,
trying to take away who you are.
You didn’t know it then,
but one day you will,
be so much more than many men may have dreamed of.
No one can fight on like that forever,
fearless and frenzied, faultless in falling.
When the last stand comes,
I will take arms,
I will fight at your side,
slowly to restore you.
One day soft wings will embrace you,
carry you home.
One day you will be home [/font]
not with your heart on your sleeve,
but in your hand.
It’s red robust rhythm,
with its welcoming wholesome warmth,
they’d never seen such singular strength.
Pure and perfect in your palm,
it shimmered and shone like a star.
They envied its power,
which they’d never be able to grasp.
They came at you with their hungry hands,
breaking away pieces of you,
trying to take away who you are.
You didn’t know it then,
but one day you will,
be so much more than many men may have dreamed of.
No one can fight on like that forever,
fearless and frenzied, faultless in falling.
When the last stand comes,
I will take arms,
I will fight at your side,
slowly to restore you.
One day soft wings will embrace you,
carry you home.
One day you will be home [/font]
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