Darker and darker, the blackness closes in. Closer and closer, Demons, torture and pain. The warrior within me raises his shield, but lifting it becomes harder with every day I awaken. Weary and tired, his sword moving slower. The fight is too hard, the battle too long, the years have worn on, the onslaught too strong.
One day at a time but what if I falter. What is the price if I fall, stop or stagger? Unable to rise, unable to feel, the blackness will win as I cease to exist. The drive is all gone as I fall once again. The warrior is down, I fear that he's dead. Not moving, no fight, what's the point, let me die. Freedom at last, no more pain, please don't cry.
But still they will cry. The warrior must rise. Their happiness relies on husband, father, son, brother and friends survival. The fight must go on, how long, no body can know. But when the demon rises, we stand toe to toe. Pushing and driving, dig deeper than ever. Push back the darkness, try to find the light. The tables are turning, but the battles not won. The warrior knows this will always go on.
Strength always fading, no relief in sight. The strangers that pass, no idea of my fight. The only saviour is family, friends and the sounds.
Sounds of sweetness that come when the warrior is down.
Family that surround and hold under arm. Lifting and carrying through the darkest of time.
Friends, always there, shining a light. Providing a beacon when the darkness is tight.
Today I survive. Tomorrow? Who knows. The only guarantee, every day I will fight...
