Uncategorized

The Victor

The air was thick, still, offensive. A sticky Louisiana oppression,
One pure cry ruptures the night. The first call of a warrior’s procession.
She was born a soldier. Mightier than any other August child.
Her armor cast by the heavens. Her heart fierce. Love beating wild.

She knows her Father. And she knows her Home.
An angel in the battlefield, with eyes on Kingdom come.

No one could understand the tragedy that had befallen,
A young girl’s battle cannot be swept away or simply forgotten.
But onward and up, our beloved young victor pressed forward.
While foes tried to slay her, she clung to the treasure He offered.

She knows her Father. And she knows her Home.
An angel in the battlefield, with eyes on Kingdom come.

And through each new door that granted painfully little relief,
She swung weapons at her fears, her doubt, her mourning and grief.
The prize for her courage was a chance to recreate what she wanted,
Never knowing that the enemy was prowling, and he would be undaunted.

She knows her Father. And she knows her Home.
An angel in the battlefield, with eyes on Kingdom come.

When he struck her this time, the wounds should have been fatal,
But our fighter was bestowed greatness from her first breath in the cradle.
And as her eyes desperately seek a sliver of sun in violent shrouds of darkness,
Her commander smiles for He has already planned her sweet catharsis.

Oh, she knows her Father. And she knows her Home.
An angel in the battlefield, with eyes on Kingdom come.

Her energy flagging, weary and bleeding from the defeats and losses,
Her power is drained. Her enemies gather as she helplessly watches.
But she cannot be triumphed by the folly of the vicious, approaching foe.
She tightens her grip on the weapon she was equipped with so many years ago.

Yes, she knows her Father. And she knows her Home.
An angel in the battlefield, with eyes on Kingdom come.

She musters the last drip of strength, and calls forth that final ounce,
The courageous victor crouches, ready and waiting for the evil one to pounce.
And as he attempts to launch his most ferocious attack,
Our unmatched hero and Commander march forward. They fight back.

She belongs to her Father. He has a place for her at Home.
An angel in the battlefield. Her God proudly saying, “My child, well done.”

FullSizeRender

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s