The strength of my resolve,
Is tested every minute,
Of every day,
I have come to believe,
Through trials and tribulations,
That my destiny,
Are these words.
I view the world with a healthy skepticism,
Tempered by a cynicism reserved for those that have grabbed life,
Eaten it whole,
As I toiled for twenty two years,
Pressing through the fog of insecurity,
To claim my rightful place,
A rich tapestry of wordsmiths the world over,
Each eyeing with the same questions, concerns and designs,
The lifelong pursuit of personal truth,
At once a happy and angry thought,
For that which we discover,
May not be what we had intended to find.
It is here,
At this realization,
That the untapped resources of my souls desires,
Mirror the strength of my resolve,
That I may be so fortunate,
As to know wealth beyond measure,
For truly what is life, this Warrior Poet’s life,
The search to touch another so deeply,
That they are moved to tears of joy or pain,
As so many appear to be by these words.
I am at once with these words,
Master and slave,
Reaching inside my cavernous experiences,
To hopefully allow you to see my humanity,
That now demonstrates here with a brash humility,
That you may find your own truth,
Through my own,
Kicking down the proverbial doors that prevent my own advance,
Breaking my foot more than once or twice,
The nosy neighbor of my own emotions,
Seeking to discover and uncover more than my truth.
Perhaps, hopefully, a universal truth,
That transcends words and language,
Sitting on my stool,
Projecting myself light years away,
Discovering the brightness of my own life,
My own experience,
Hopefully shining a light that you can see,
All of me,
For all of you,
What is a writer to do?
What shall a Warrior Poet be?
All I have are these words,
And these words have all of me.