Crumbling and tumbling come the edgings off a cliff

A cavernous range of sprawling, mountainous ruin

An iron will no longer is this

But this is not my will

 

A squadron of feathered warriors glide freely

Their vision piercing and true, full of meaning

An iron will can be no more evident

But this is not my will

 

An army of ants, cohesive and coursing

Like a river raging, forceful and forging

An iron will for change

But this is not my will

 

The piercing gaze, the sight of a soldier

Carrying orders from governed disorder

An iron will misguided

But this is not my will

 

Resolving to fight through troubled waters

Expressing desire through candid disorder

To fight, flight, fatigue or freeze

Or take control and call it a breeze

This is my will