In the middle of a war,
maybe with no shore.
Not a defeater.
But no better.
Weary with no sword.
Not metres apart from being floored.

Stuck in the thought spiral.
Tears filled in a barrel.
Your arrival, a hope,
like a climb up rope.

Still in the fight.
Now standing upright.
A finger on the trigger,
with you as my aiding pillar.