Push on

It will be alright.
It will. We will.

It is written so
by poets, hopeful that,
for all the battles gone
and all the bloody conflict
still to come,
yet so it is:
the war is won.

Some way to go,
at times with faintest light
but, even so,
the foes that we must fight
grow static
in the face of human might
once fixed upon its Grace

for it shall cast the night aflame
with Dignity and Honour named
in place of shame and shamelessness.

Tides turn.
Push on,
for, short; for long,
Time runs or rests
at our behest.

2 thoughts on “Push on

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