Mere Combat In the Crucible

In front of the vestibule the dragon slumbers Atop a skeletal heap of unfathomable numbers Like the despair that guards my fatigued core Surrounded by the ruin of all that I implore Beside the parlor bearing my unadorned diadem Broods a scorned and jealous leviathan As the scarab pushes the sun across the sky My worry and anxiety continue to ramify The imprisoned kraken waits with ominous patience Beneath the bedrock and the foundations The primeval serpent slithers around the apple of my eye As my vigor wanes and my dread intensifies However, I will never yield, I will fight forever, with my sword, with my shield I reach for Excalibur, I reach for Mjolnir, I reach for Moses' Rod And I summon the power that comes only from the true God I wrestle my demons, I fight my fiends, and I clash with my foes And I reclaim back from their greedy tendrils my hard-won repose Thus is the plight of recovery With each new height and discovery Comes a new battle to wage That I might enter my "golden age"