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.