Plain Old Me
Friday, October 17, 2008
The time for rest is past,
refreshed and renewed onward i march,
a steady step, a stable hand,
my steps carry far into the wind.
Picking my weapons,
onward i march,
whether victory awaits me,
or the bitter disappointment of failure,
i do not know.
My heart bemoans the stillness of inaction,
and my mind the captain, has set his course.
Onward i must march, to restore righteousness,
To gain what was mine,
from the beginning of time.
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