against the odds.
against the gods forced on us
by friend or foe, we fight.
beyond mere will,
where weapons kill more than
just flesh, slaying truth and light.

we have been cast, as tumbling dice,
amid the mortals who repel us...
that would sell us for a smile
from cold idols carved of ice.
we have fallen.  and have risen.
and taken penance given, every mile.


copyright William F. DeVault