Saturday, April 12, 2014

The Last Bastion

When all is lost, there's nothing left, the war is at the door
Why is it that you'll battle on, what brings you back for more?
Is fame or money or power or pride the price that is to be?
To flicker on and shoot upright, to keep the flame, not flee?
Where is the armour shielding all, the will to face the fates?
Where is the strength to never fall? like mothered pearl the plates
How do you keep the honor true while fighting subtle wars?
No will to die when all is lost while in those corridors
Only this can make it all so clearly worth the while
To struggle on through darkest age, to take each step with style

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© 2012 whickwithy

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