They could never hope to keep me down
and believe me they’ve tried
not so easy to run when you’re facing the gun
with your hands and legs tied
beaten straight to the ground
flat refused to stay downed
as the mighty fall hard
but I’d heard that the mightier rise


bullet holes gaping wide
knife marks littered my spine
battle scars on my wings
had one prayer left to sing
which was that of the dying
conclusion foregone
surely way too far gone
to stare back at death
draw a breath
and get down to the art of defiance


No odds in my favor
no rights left to waiver
no channel to vent
nor last-ditch attempt
to repent misbehavior
just a kick in the ribs
and a twist in the gut
as all doors were slammed shut
having not made the cut
and been deemed outright failure


Soaked up every low blow
not through choice but pure diligence
for I found every fractured compound
taught the art of resilience
gained a fighter’s mentality
and things changed rather drastically
as I soaked up every single last shot
and came back with tenacity


not to say there weren’t fears
a few dignified tears
but as I broke down and wept
it all became painlessly clear
I’m no less than a warrior
and of Spartan descent
defeat not a viable option
not without my consent


Twas the winter of my discontent
but I’d weathered the storm
now the time had arrived to rise from the ashes
and assume my new form
this lion-hearted white rabbit
was now thermodynamic
and the flames burning bright
in the blacks of my eyes
were no longer sporadic


As luck wouldn’t have it
I let fate lead the charge
believed both my eyes
sealed them ever so tight
and trusted my heart
it knew just what to do
and it offered a clue
as one indication
was all I required
to square up to each pain and burst through


each attack I deflected
saw my line of sight further corrected
as the blood of a Spartan flows with deepest red truth
and is always protected
we know only too well how to fall
go through sheer bloody hell for our cause
but we won’t be denied
as we stand firm with pride
with fiercest of fire in the blackest of eyes
no longer snowblind as they glare at the prize
defeated no more we look up to the skies
then we bloody well






Richard Charles Stevens


Keeper of the Crimson Quill




Click here to purchase on Amazon



© Copyright: Rivers of Grue™




    1. Grey will be doing some readings in the future, now you mention it. She has been a little under the weather for a few days but that will be something we will include at some point soon. Really glad you liked Koala, she has the blood of a Spartan and the soul of an angel.

If you like what you've seen & read please feel free to share your thoughts with us!

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.