Shrugs Off His Past Timidity
To be crowned King of his future
He wandered the battleground of life,
Stepping over each bloody corpse of his past,
Strangling on emotion, turmoil a fluttering,
Horrid memories leave him feeling aghast.
***
Sordid secrets out on full display,
Banishing the lies of his very existence,
Gun smoke adding a haze over his future,
Destroying the possibility of his future resistance.
***
Tears shadow his knife edged cheeks,
Flowing ceremonially from a broken heart,
Punishment obvious within the depths of his gaze,
Banished from his purpose right from the start.
***
His step falters as his outlook turns despondent,
What is the point in moving on?
Destiny has struck and broken his spine,
Stolen his words and stalled his song.
***
He drops to his knees amongst the gore,
Head held tightly within the palm of his hands,
Bowed to the destruction of his forgotten mantra,
The map of his journey torn up with his plans.
***
Tomorrow dawns brightly,
And he wearily lifts his bowed head,
The sunlight is smiling upon his dawning,
There’s still hope, if he’d just trust instead.
***
He decides to open his heart one last time,
Letting the choices lighten his load,
The cracks shimmer within a new light,
As his optimism is once more bestowed.
***
He rises from the blood, the gore, the destruction,
Standing tall and becoming the confident man he aspires,
A smile adorns his chiselled face,
Dressing him in the strength he desires.
***
He raises his head and his fists as one,
Yelling loudly in combatant fluidity,
“I will not be beaten by ones so lowly,
So run you cowards, remove your stupidity,
I have risen to heights that you’ll forever only dream,
As I shrug off the last of my past timidity.”
***
He stands his ground awaiting their grievance,
But instead the silence of the cowardly remains,
His strength has crowned him King of his future,
As he’s skin wears the tattoo of past bloodstains.
***
He’s taken back control of his days and his nights,
Shaken to the core of possibilities,
A breath at a time, minute by minute,
Prepared for war and life’s future hostilities.
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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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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