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“You don't lose if you get knocked down; you lose if you stay down.” Muhammad Ali 

I've been struggling to exist, 
since the day I was born.
A dehydrated butterfly 
in a garden without rain.
A white page, an inkless quill, 
a silent poet without words.

But when eyes feel fuzzy, 
head a little dizzy,
and the pills don't work,
we fight the confusion like a 
gladiator without a sword.
a knight without a shield.
Every time we get a bit of respite,
it's time for another fight.
Sometimes like an old boxer,
we get knocked to the ground,
but like a fledgling I resurface.

What other choice do I have?

I'm no mercenary, 
no militant, no martyr.
I'm a wounded samurai
under a cherry blossom tree,
bloodshed blade by my side.
I drink pain like a glass of water,
embrace agony like a lover,
suffocate sorrow until it's over.

Pain is a reflection of my existence,
my wounds a reluctant legacy,
written from massacres of warfare -
but there is no purpose without struggle.

I always keep hope for tomorrow,
but live for today.
Life is an advent of adversity,
we win, we lose, we learn.

We are all warriors,
as life is one constant conflict.

We are forever fighters.

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