One Man; Crippled He Falls, Mighty He Stands
Because he too is human
He cries silently when he feels nobody is watching,
His heart broken, shattered and severely torn,
He doesn’t want to survive this destruction and devastation,
Wallowing in the abyss where he’s feeling terribly forlorn.
**
He hides his pain behind a brick wall of stoic,
Because of the unspoken rule sprouted by all and one,
Strong men don’t cry, weakness cannot be seen,
Not if they wish to be in the brotherhood, they’d soon be shun.
**
Yet his turmoil is destroying the very essence of goodness,
Turning a gentle man into one ready for war,
Pain pushing him to his outer limits,
Until suddenly he’s ready and willing to even the score.
**
I watch in horror as this beautiful human being disintegrates,
Before my eyes he turns ugly and horribly harrowing,
A monster stampeding into battle like he was borne to it,
His goal of revenge one quickly obsessively narrowing.
**
I stand proud in his path and tell him to backdown,
And feel he is going to bulldoze me out of his way,
His gaze burns fiercely as he stares me down,
But then slowly he begins to listen to all that I say.
**
Deflated, he sits and silently cries,
Tears run the gauntlet of his face and down his chin,
My heart breaks to witness such sheer agony,
And we both struggle to know where to begin.
**
I hear his hoarse whisper with my silent ears,
“I am a monster in making, a crippled man,
My demons are stronger as they hold my pain in their hands,
And it’s only your belief in me that I surrender, it’s because of you I can.”
**
I’m humbled at his words, but he has it wrong,
He doesn’t realise his own strength, the goodness within,
I see his light begin to shine brightly once more,
As his resilience and determination begin to win.
Please click the link below my name to read more of my work. I would also like to thank you for taking the time to read this today and for all your support.
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Please visit my website if you'd like more information on my newly published book, Battle Angel : The Ultimate She Warrior.
Originally published on Medium
About the Creator
Colleen Millsteed
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
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