The sun had set,
But the fire within him still burned bright.
This is the story of a warrior,
Who never once held a sword to fight.
What do you call someone like them?
The one who keeps trying,
No matter how many taunts come his way,
He never lets his dreams start dying.
No, they doesn't shine like the sun,
That fades away every night.
For they are more like the moon,
Longing to be whole,
craving its full light.
But from afar all you see
Is a path adorned with flowers fair.
Step in their shoes for once,
And feel the thorns hidden there.
Yet, they bears every thorn you throw,
With a silent smile and moves ahead.
A heart full of hope,
Just a little more,
a few more steps,
For his destiny is not far but near instead.
They fight not with swords,
But with life, with fate, with time.
Yet you do not care,
And when they falters,
You say.. they never learned how to fight?
©umclite
U