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Click hereI’ve earned each wrinkle, each strand of gray,
Marks of a journey that’s led me this way.
My back may be bent, yet my eyes stay clear,
My spirit as strong as steel, tempered, never by fear.
I will never bend, though time takes its toll,
For deep within, I carry a warrior’s soul.
My shield arm shattered, my sword arm broken,
But I bind them with will, and my resolve unspoken.
Strapped with sinew, held by sheer might,
I rise once more, prepared for the fight.
Though life may batter and storms descend,
I stand unyielding, refusing to bend.
I’ve weathered the battles, faced the strife,
With each scar a testament to this life.
Every wrinkle tells a tale of days well-spent,
Each gray hair a sign of the roads I’ve went.
My back may be bent, but my heart stands tall,
My eyes still shine, having seen it all.
For the spirit within, like iron forged in fire,
Remains unbroken, never to tire.
Through shattered bones and dreams once torn,
I forge ahead, battle-worn.
Bent perhaps, but never bowed,
I stand defiant, fierce and proud.
So let the storms rage, let the winds blow,
I’ve weathered all, and still I grow.
Till life is spent, and the final breath,
I’ll fight on, defying death.
For every wrinkle, every gray,
Are medals of honor in life’s fray.
And till the end, I’ll never yield,
For in this battle, ’tis a will of steel I wield.
I don't know what to say, Paul. You’re far kinder than my paltry poems deserve, and that’s not false modesty. I've never truly understood poetry, not like my sweet Pixie, but I’ve always admired it. I’m merely the pen for whatever muse drives me. As for my own strength, whatever steel lies within my will pales in comparison to the adamant resolve of my beloved Pixie or the obsidian strength of my Helen. These two women have been the souls that carried me through, and I am their Lazarus—for through them, the Lord raised me from the dead, turning my longing for death into a desperate love for life. I love them both more than I will ever be able to convey, but I will continue to struggle to do so, for otherwise, it will burst forth from my chest of its own accord, demanding to show itself to the world.
This poem is a key addition to your recent introspective series of poems.
The courage and strength gloriously reflect upon the lessons learned; beyond the will to fight on and stand defiant, there is an assured self-confidence and pride of successful devotion.
Whether you are wrapped in Helen’s arms, or behind the mask, your spirit shines!
Thank you, my beloved Pixie, my Elven Princess. Yes, there is always love woven into every battle, every scar. It's what keeps me strong and moving forward. Your words mean everything to me, as always. 💕💕💕💕💕💕
Thank you, Falling4U, for these beautiful and heartfelt words. You've perfectly captured the journey—the battles, the scars, and the light that guides us through the darkest nights. It means the world to have a friend who understands the path and stands ready to watch my back. Together, we’ll keep our standards high, unyielding, no matter the storm. Here’s to warriors who stand side by side, always.
Thank you, HottieOlwen, for such a beautifully crafted response. You've captured the spirit of the Amazons of old and the strength that continues to live within us today. Gray hair and all, we still stand strong, ready to face whatever challenges come our way. Your words honor that resilience, and I'm truly grateful.