My mother's tears bend my spine.
Her weigh bends the wood that has made me strong like a tree in a storm.
The water from her tear helps my feet sink roots into the ground, only to hope it keep us from washing away.
Her heave breath, pump air into mine with a pray that it will keep us both alive.
Her scared hand had clawed their way up from hell so that I will be one step closer to heaven when I take over the fight.
Because with my brother youthful eye watch our mothers sob, I know this fight can longer belong to her.
Therefore I pick up her broke shield and bent blade.
I straighten my wooden spine over the weight of those that watch.
Willing to become an unbreaking oak to keep my beloved safe.
Ready to fight as a warrior in the world war that is life.