The sky darkened, the clouds rolling in.
A flash of lightening transformed the once blue sky to a fiery red.
He strode forth unprotected, unadorned.
While the storm brewed overhead.
The road forked before him,
representing the trials of life.
He knew not what each path represented,
save the promise of worry and strife.
The image of his goal blurred.
The destination now uncertain.
He had just a vague idea, a tenuous feeling of what he wanted
to see when he parted the final curtain.
He thought hard, his eyes scanning the landscape.
There was a choice to make.
Would he have the courage to persevere, to plow on?
Or in the face of danger, would he break?
Squaring his shoulders, his head held high,
he took a step to the right.
He could have taken the easier path,
but he had chosen to fight.
Step by step, one foot before the other,
he entered the raging sea.
And there before him, on the wings of destiny,
rose the Angel of Mercy.
A calm settled over his jumping nerves.
He closed his eyes praying with all his might.
Opening his eyes to certain death, he unsheathed his sword,
he was a warrior, a Knight.
