In the Midst of a battle ~ Kelsier

I saw weakness.
A feeble hero,
his fragile dreams.
With every blow,
he fell, tasted dirt,
befriended death.
With every blow,
I prayed for a God,
an anchor for life,
a foothold for ambition,
a bunker for dreams.
‘But why?’
quoth the stranger,
calling from insides.
‘Savior, he’s not’
said I, ‘it’s no men’s deed’.
‘Look’, the stranger yelled.
risen again,
he took the blow,
I cried, ‘He is weak,
weak as me’
.Stranger again,
‘smells of death,
it’s you, not he’
I saw his weakness
in me, the fear,
‘he conquered fear,
he is no weak’
The stranger faded
in my sweaty palms
whilst I clenched the fist.
In a daydream,
I saw his fears,
I saw him overcome it.


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