From birth till this day, very many stories I have heard,
From the day my memory spoke very many stories I told,
Those days never lost colors and into history haven’t fallen,
As the story of the fighter on every day, a word or line mind wrote.
That little fighter for every inch fought, with doubts but still fought,
Every dream well weaved and the fighter fought to fulfill each,
Failures brought mock-filled laughs and the tears held,
With the blood of vengeance tainted but still from world withheld.
Toys, and games, schools and friends, Ah’ fought for everyone,
Nothing filled the mind as an imageless shadow deep in soul grew,
Every time in the mind and soul the fighter felt a deep breath erased,
And the steps for the forward move always to face brought smiles.
College and work came faster than ever imagined,
Even after all that the battle for inches continued,
Held tears many times tore the heart and the shadow felt,
The pain and hid deep in the soul where no man can reach.
I looked in her eyes and I knew the last paragraph of the fighter’s story,
How many more battles she must fight to hold my hands I knew not,
For all I felt was the shadow in her mind found its image upon me,
And withheld tears tainted with blood of unknown vengeance she fought.
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