In combat, the only barrier between the blade
and your throbbing jugular
is the way you wield your weaponry.
Shield too quickly, your cover is blown:
Now, how will you atone for your lapse of judgement?
Strike delayed, with breath belated,
Your opponent's fate has been betrayed.
But shadows?
Shadows?
Who cower like cowards
At the hands of what's right.
And how does one fight a mere trick of light?
Master such art as fencing with night?
Lasso the setting sun and beg him to stay.
Sway dusk with truth and reason.
My dark is tired; this body is treason.
My dark is tired, but won't let me mourn it.
To grasp this bull by both its horns,
I tell the Devil "No"
The Devil knows his death is sworn.
ABOUT: Luke 10:17, 18- "'Lord, even the demons are made subject to us by the use of your name." At that he said to them: "I see Satan already fallen like lightning from heaven."
