Way To Damascus

On my long way to that 
strange land
I cross sword with much 
a hand
And smiles I meet of
many forms
But still I pull myself through 
storms.

For here in me I put my trust
That is, beside the  God I 
must
For I will neither wreck my 
heart
Nor tear my troubled soul 
apart
With lies or suicidal attempt 
Abuse, assault, or self 
contempt.

To me, therefore, do I 
belong
Alone, therefore, would I be 
strong
For who would tell the tale 
but me?
So how indeed would foes 
defeat
A hard to crack a nut as me?
And if they know not how to 
beat
And sack a castle high as me
Won't they retreat and let 
me be
Or bow to me in fetish glee?

War is rot and peace is not
Till the horn sounds I'll 
weave my plot
To crippled fate I cast my lot
Atop two stones I keep my 
pot.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace