Valiant
Ablaze by the world I have been thrown into
Yet the fires aren’t warm, they are cold and torn
They speak your name in thunderous calls
Softly making their mark onwards to a redeeming fall
Listening to their chants that are colours at play
Some shape into endless forms, others call forth storms
Alive in the wonder of that which is real
Unable to describe the senses of how it feels
But what would lead to an understanding of the whole?
I am neither valiant, nor from a complete home
The make up of what is real creates a veil of silver
Yet who is there to lend me a moment of gold?
In the trials of that which make us human
Michael Aquilina 26.11.2023