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"
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