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Fray
It is late, in the midst of devastation,
Full of hate, full of bloody lacerations,
Defying fate, I lunge in desperation.
Yet he evades, despite my frustration.
No delays, I can’t last much longer.
In this fray, my adversary is stronger.
In this place, resilient in this struggle,
I see his face, the source of my troubles.
Setting pace, I rush at him with force.
With grace, like the speed of a horse,
I fight back, striking him with no remorse.
I press the attack, fighting with no recourse.
Blow after blow, I deliver him a beating.
My stamina’s low, my hands are bleeding.
The air is cold, unrelenting and freezing.
But hope grows, as I am still breathing.
No delays, I will not yield or retreat.
In this fray, I accept victory or defeat.
