The fall of the Fighting Spirit

Created from the pit of a fiery soul, grows a spirit full of life,
Potential limitless to all challenges given, a glow shining through the far horizon light.

Troubled past builds the strength, lessons taught to give wisdom,
Longevity equals experience, minimizing the unexplored to be seldom.

Some call it rage, call it fearless, call it courage in the dark,
Others call it an overwhelming emotion causing adrenaline in a spark.

Yet for every single pro, comes a negative in return,
Like the fall of Achillies, in Troy where he burned.

For a spirit is as strong as its will to survive,
But the moment it gives in, suffering will arrive.

For as great as it may be, the shine will then fade,
Overwhelmed by the power that its opposed had made.

Killing softly, slow and steady till the day it loses will,
As the years turns into decades, like what rust does to the steel.

Then one day far from today the little fire will try to glow,
Looking for the path it once walked, seeking redemption to help it grow.

But the poison has already spread to thick, its broken from the lack to bother,
The fighting spirit once full of life, is drowning in the water.

Yet a ray of hope comes once a lifetime to change the road that was taken,
But closed eyes, and deaf ears will end up in the direction of its forsaken.


Mark