Warrior

My man is a warrior. A survivor. A lion of people. He is perhaps stronger still because he doubts himself. Always looking inwards trying to improve. Tinkering with his morality and his love for people and himself. I think he doesn't know his own strength. Doesn't know his ability to get through, to be the best person he can be. To find happiness. Sometimes his vision is clouded and I try to be the mirror. Show him what he really is. Show him that he is a warrior.

Because I know his strength. I know that he can do anything. I know that his heart is made of something not of this world. Something that keeps him from quitting, keeps him from letting the fire of hope die even when the flame is so weak the slightest breeze could blow it out. He's made of better things. Made for good in every way because he would not settle for less. I know this about him. I know he's the strongest fighter because I've seen him do it many times. His silence speaks volumes, even of pain. But he will get through. Clouds be damned.