The Phoenix Rises Above


WARRIOR

A locution is not the weapon you portray it to be,
It is but a word, a collection of letters, a song of syllables,
And yet you wave these designations around like a well-honed sword.

You puff out your chest and thrust your chin to the sky,
A mighty warrior armed with words in place of weapons,
You take your place upon the battlefield prepared to scathe your enemy.

But there is no one there, no antagonist to play out this game,
Your opponent is, but a poem, a release of feeling, another's opinion,
Yet you lash out, thrashing at the invisible, spewing hatred at an author unbeknownst to you.

When your supposed archenemy takes the higher ground, providing no rebuttal,
You repeat your tyranny, repeating the same words to the same tune over and over and over again,
You lash out, but there is no enemy to prevail, your weapons futile in the ether,  you remain adrift.

There is no clash, no duel, no contest, left to be fought or won,
Your enemy has risen from the ashes, gained power from your flames,
This phoenix you pursue will not be captured, will not stoop to your level, will not be maimed by your appellations.

You are but an invisible warrior lost in the vastness that is.
by: T.J. Ruberto (c) 2017

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