Holding onto a tender stem,
cut,
nothing to grip.
Embracing a thin air
my own shoulders meet.

Collapsed,
I saw the last falling debris.
Spared from my calloused feet
I stood
before the pillars of fear.

Immovable eyes I gazed
at the height of the grouching might.
The sword ran away,
fragile, not to display.

Last gear I wear,
last shout into the air.
Until my last breath, I fell,
a sudden strength in the dust I felt.

It was there where the strong
gets his power to prolong,
where his knees are bend to ask
at the bottom the fortress unmask.