The Child Who Flees the Battle
When battle knocks upon a child
and he hides beneath the trembling wall,
fear plants its flag inside his name
and silence becomes his shadow.
For life is not a river crossed
with folded hands and lowered eyes;
the sky respects the stubborn bird
that flies against the storm.
A boy becomes a man one day
not merely by the count of years,
but by the wounds he dares to face
and the tears he refuses to waste.
The brave are not strangers to fear;
their hearts still shake like fragile leaves,
yet they rise when destiny calls
and answer thunder with footsteps.
O child of the red earth,
when hardship stands before your door,
do not surrender your spirit
to the cold comfort of retreat.
Stand.
Even if your voice quivers.
Fight.
Even if your knees grow weak.
For the one who confronts his battle
may fall and rise again with honour,
but the one who runs forever
becomes a prisoner of his own fear.
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