A tiny piece of possibility a shred of hope for an ideal.
A secret wish is then made an anticipation that builds.
Will it suffice to say that uncertainty has paved a way.
For a moments reflection in time could possibly be a past projection.
That words are weapons but battles are necessary.
How else would we know what we stand against.
What we stand for our capabilities unleashed from the core.
All from battle scars.
If we go out to meet the enemy.
If even in our own falsehood.
To uncloak the hidden one to see predator unmasked.
The forces that threaten to take us asunder.
Trom the moment we fled in luck from them.
To breathe the familiar scent of vulnerability.
To know that we walk the fine line alone.
To face it and say I shall be victorious.
This time over all that threatens the life within me.
That I shall fight to the death with mother kali.
At my side my warrioress my protectress.
No man shall defeat me.
And every time a little piece of that vision created about you is destroyed.
A little piece in me called momentum is completely in drought.