When I choke on my thoughts and spit pride in the dirt. You've planned me to gain and have planned me to lose. This war I rage on Earth, within my mind... if I stand in Valor let old beams fall upon my face. In this life I walk, and scramble. I collect feathers to build my wings through humble deeds and curious sacrifices. However,my demons stalk behind me closely, lunging at the opportunity I present in my falter. Blistering iron pushing back and silent cries of agony provoke them. Hungry flames burn and embers grow and growl 'neath my construction of feathers. They dare to rise, they dare to devour at my mistake. In my strength however may my bushel threaten to smother that angry coal to ash. May my good prevail in this life so that I might rise in the next.