I see the warrior, battling.
Coming and going.
Being confronted and being engaged.
Determined to find a better way.
Oh, she does.
What other choice does the warrior have?
The stories told;
The stories shown;
All part of a collective, massive, and varied gen.
Causing her thoughts to become a grayish game.
That’s why the warrior fights.
She faces the battle that is found in the human life.
She uses her armory to defeat the chains of ache.
Those self-imposed truths,
Which can divert her from her ways.
There goes the warrior,
Constantly finding courage.
Understanding her own chosen faith.
Overcoming all limitations,
To help co-create what suits her best.
She plays the game of mind.
She battles with giant wards.
But, her soul sends the notes,
That she needs, to complete her song.
For this, she turns into practice,
The dark into the light.
Mirrors of each other.
She understands, we all are.
I see the warrior,
And she carries heavy duties;
Sometimes she feels enthusiastic,
Other times she faces disasters.
Being influenced by the fear in life,
Never letting it define her own art.
The warrior stands strong,
For she knows the power she owns.
The warrior reaches the edge of her efforts.
She feels tired.
She feels lost.
But help is always knocking at her door.
The warrior is imperfect,
And she is fine with that.
For redemption is what she seeks.
Not ideals that could cause her fight to cease.
The warrior has many scars.
And they remind her of the pain of the past.
Here and now she declares,
To repeat what works best,
And to vanish that which causes her oh, so much stress.
The warrior is ready;
Oh, she is.
Ready to love life;
Ready to take flight.
I see the warrior,
I see you.
The journey never ends,
And this, you know very well.
But, oh, warrior be reminded
That rest is necessary.
Go on and rest.
To clear your skies,
And when you are ready,
Get up and continue the fight.