The Battle

November 12, 2008
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I feel it rising within me,
A powerful advance on the enemy.
It billows from my throat,
Caught by the wind of pride.
The strong, pure body of the note
Shudders as it expands from my chest,
Bleeding into the air,
Burning the silence with each delicate nuance.
The world shifts as I lower, deepen, fight to breathe.
False hope for the enemy.
Rising again.
My voice sharpens into the note,
Slicing doubts.
It is a triumph,
A victory that hides the loss.
Breath runs empty.
The last trailing note flies from my grasp.
Silence announces my defeat.
My demons return.

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