The Bat

September 26, 2010
I’m falling, falling ever so deep.
I can’t close my eyes for fear that I won’t be able to stop the sleep.
Ashes sting my eyes, sulfur ruins my tongue.
The battlefield of the mind is a strange place to be.
For you need to be on your guard,
Be wary of all the creatures, all of the soldiers,
That will try to beat down the gates, and enter your sanctuary.
You are not a pawn in a puppeteer’s game.
Guard your heart, prepare your defenses,
For you should know the war hasn’t ended.
It will continue, until you make a decision.
Breathe it in, see the light.
The darkness will pursue the purity of your heart,
And it wants to wear your crown.
Guard thine eyes, and cover your ears,
Protect yourself from their glares, their screeches,
Strike back with your helmet, your shield, and your sword.
Never again be taken hostage to the symbiotic shadows.
Let your sheath resonate and your battle cry sound.
Hear the clash of metal upon claw, and make your fortress known.
Only then will you find that there is an army,
Standing alongside you on chariots of fire,
With great warriors who brandish the light.
You look upon the enemy,
And declare the time is near.
Reclaim your body from the ruins,
Bring the end to the darkness in your mind,
And have your chariots riding all night around a fire.
Rest on your laurels for now, because your fight isn’t over.
Put on the helmet; wipe your breastplate clean,
You have the victory, you have overcome.

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