Strength Becomes Me

Chaos consumes me,

its vines wrapping tightly around my heart

clutching, clawing at the atrium walls

stripping every beautiful blossom from the brambles.

Limbs lie bare, entangled with dying weeds,

blackness devouring my very soul,

consuming all that is left of me and the truth I withhold.

But as my body lies limp and lifeless

emotion drained to a pale shade of gray

and silence is the only offering of peace,

I find comfort and hope in the echoes

of my lungs struggling not to cease.

For if there is even one breath still hanging from my lips,

then sacred energy still surges wildly through these bones.

So I look to the stars and remember the ancestors who walk beside me.

I am reminded of ancient secrets, legends foretold and all the lives I lived long ago.

No, this is not my time to go.

My journey is not yet complete and I have foreign lands to visit before I sleep.

In that moment, strength becomes me and I am moved by spirit alone.

Teeth clenched, knees trembling, but I give it one last fight, one last push to ascend. And as I stand, crown in hand, I vow never again to allow fear to overthrow my throne.