FIGHTER… a poem

man's hand and chains
Image credit

Tear my mind away from the traps that lay within

Hold tight, steadfast and true to the belief that I have purpose

Refuge is not a place of ideology

But a place of triumph from battles fought

Wash these callused hands in the blood of my forefathers

Hold tight to the truth of their sacrifice of yesteryear

Beware, as ancestry too, has places of darkness

For rage and intolerance follow the path of their iniquities

Enlightenment dissuades the beast inside

Constraints, no matter their strength, can break

Take heart and lean into love

For only in this we shall we be victorious and find peace

Author: What Words May Come

Hopeless romantic; joker; father and grandfather; husband; sportsman; part-time writer;

6 thoughts on “FIGHTER… a poem”

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