The battle fresh, the wounds are real.
None of them are quick to heal.
Awake the spirit with a song.
Arise the strength that seems long gone.
When something happens that seems unfair,
The enemy will drag you to his lair.
In that chamber, wide and deep,
He will entice your reason to go to sleep.
Inside the mind will he rouse disdain
Against the testing and the pain
And make the longing to be free
From any chains you did not see
But he, in quickness will be sure
To show you things that don’t endure
Like chains that don’t exist at all
To make you squirm, shrink, and fall.
Listen not to his keen voice
That lures you with such seeming choice
That will, all told, be sure to kill
And hold you hostage at his will.
Take then the sword into you hand
And take a stand, though weary feel,
And stab at his hoof shodden heel
For soon enough, with prayer and might,
You will win this vicious fight.
But lay not down when the fight is still
Because vigilance is His will.
If sleep falls on you and you do sway
Stand tall and ask for strength this day.
Be grateful for small times of rest
So that you can return to arms totally refreshed.
But languish not in times of strain
Lest the enemy gain total reign.
So rest for now, oh weary one.
Death will show you what you’ve won.
Life eternal, victory yours
For staying steady amidst the storms.