robear1969

Years have passed since those very youthful times.
My warriors soul was forged in the crucible of training, war, and hardship.
I had volunteered into this fire. The blaze could have destroyed me but with each every blow from the hammer served to shape my being. Every drop of water and blood wrung out of me has tempered me and strengthen my soul.
I felt this power and strength coiled inside me. It burned will fever like intensity, at times it felt with pleasure and other times with pain.
Very early I carried the burden of cynical wisdom that casted me out from among my peers.
I knew that I would be doing this deed of a warrior. Nothing in my life mattered except for this.
No moment in my life exists except for this moment. I was born into this moment, and if I had failed, I would have died in that moment.
This I can feel inside burning, churning, and at times driving into insanity.
Through my veins ran coursing lava intensity of passion and spirit.
My heart pumped and thumped with thunderous roar of power that spilled into my mind with very clever and crafted words.
In my youth I felt it strongly burning in my being, deep in the bowls. It was a fire that burned inside and it would never be quenched until the day of my death, then even maybe it will burn in the pits of the abyss.
I am aging like all those around me. Nearly, four decades I have passed through this world.
That fire still burns inside me strong and powerful.
Not even the coldest winter's night could it snuff it out.
My tears and sweat pour from my being from the fever that eats at my soul.
I look into the horizon and watch another day fade, the sun setting down for the night.
Life is good.