A warrior dreamt a chilly night
Those swords clashed shields with all their might
When archers blocked the sun with arrows
Where men were struck by grief and sorrow.

He thought about his younger days
Through his mother’s eyes and assuring gaze
That even though he would love to carve
Destiny would make him fight and starve.

That someday he would have to swear
His life to a king who would not dare
To fight alongside for his greed and gain
Who would care about gold but not about grain?

Why couldn’t I be just a carpenter’s son?
And not have to fight under the blazing sun
As the world had peace if not for the kings greed
To plunder a village and make it bleed

The warrior haunted that chilly night
As it was not his first war to fight
But only if he could be a carpenter’s son
And not have to fight under the blazing sun

It was quiet and chilly this winter morn
She was huddled together to find comfort and warmth
The poverty had left her bitter and cold
Gasping for breath under destiny’s hold.

She lived her entire life on that patch of road
No place for food to be dried and stored
She drank water where she could find
Finding her way without losing her mind.

I always walked past without a thought
In awe at the will that she had got
To resume each day with a smile on her face
A duel through nature’s cruel embrace.

I go through life solving my misfortunes
My search for success of proportions
She then reminds me, my life of regrets
Is not half as bad as what she possesses