I am no author or soldier renowned
But I write as well as fight
With the new strength I've found.
Painting my emotion and expression
I move on for my life
Trying to keep down depression.
A fighter I am, yet no one near,
Passing the battlefield
With eyes full of tears.
I pen my thoughts to keep them intact
So I don't forget them ever.
Yet, these notions break me in fact.
Should I let go? Never look back?
Let the lord regret his idea
Who let me walk on his made track?
There's a meaning of my life I hold
That only I can prove if I live.
That much I have been told.
I'm not letting my being go to waste.
I'll work hard for what I want,
For that I'll have to make haste.