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What is it that gives man such passion to endure whatever might come his way? Fighting tooth and nail, clawing his way out to the depths of despair, only to throw himself back into this pit. Discouraging the soul that gives him such might to continue forward down this path of glory.
Drawing kings from peasant men to lead a people to freedom, raising the smallest courage into an inferno to rescue a person in need. Can there be a worst enemy than ones own tainted flesh, filling the mind with dreadful futures, covering the heart in despair, chilling the very bones of our souls?
Hope so long buried in the hearts of men tends to stagger to its feet, fighting exhaustively with sword in hand against so many unnatural foes. The grounds of battle are blooded as he gathers what faith of men stand behind him. Looking around you can tell that the battle may be lost. He yells out convincingly, “The war is far from over, I will not fail you, my brethren!”
Can you hear this call from age’s past, these leaders of men who brought victory, maybe not with your eyes but with your heart? Soon the mind will be filled with this courageous vigilance, steadfastly driven with the patient endurance of men’s souls. Still listening can you hear the drummed echoes pounding steadily upon your chest?
What can we call this, is it vehemence through the will of man or given from some greater source? Exhaustively you can scream your opinion through the chasm of my mind. In the end, it will be Faith who leads me through the door giving me truths final answer.
Love!
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