I spend all my days and nights walking , the ridge.
Walking , waiting and watching.
I am the guardian of the gate, the gate to the ridge.
Well above the insanity and hate of the world below.
It is there that I watch, I watch and I wait.
For reasons only I , and one’s like me will ever know!
It is my fate, I now toil with, as shall one of you someday.
It is now with my axe in hand, and my pouch full.
I watch you ,I see where I’ve been. I also see where you
Are headed.I can’t stop you, it is not your pain
For me to give. You’ve senced my presents for sometime now.
You can feel me close, but still you can’t hear my waring.
My words cannot pierce the sound, the sound of thunder.
The thunder made by the hammers, as they strike the metal.
It gets louder and louder, as the battle rages on.
I’ve watched as you stepped closer to the edge.
Not seeing or not caring what lay ahead.
I’ve been with you each and everytime, you’ve
Loaded your weapon. Ready to climb back up into the battle above.
I was there all the times you fired your gun, only to hit wood.
I was there when the battle was done, only to see you wounded.
But never could it beat you, you never surrendered.
With the smell of sweat and kerosene flowing all around you.
Dried blood smeared across your face,
I could see it in your eyes. In the way you would pick,
Yourself up each and everyday. To hell with the pain,
There’s a war to be won!
In the way you climbed back up into hell, smiling.
Knowing the next battle was only fourteen feet above.
You knew as well, as I!
Someday you would be standing above the world, victorious.
Finally ready to take your place, standing on the ridge!