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These battles, the battles of life, the ones that we MUST learn from, these are my battles.I fight my battles alone, with my perforated wings, perforated by thoughts, hate, love, sadness, blissfulness, ideas, and people themselves.I fought my battles alone with my perforated wings.
The rules are not to fight with company, your wings will fall off completely.The man they call him the painted warrior, he cost me my wings but he has saved my life, the man they call painted warrior.Two days now, and I am wingless, the painted warrior has planted something copper in the earth's ground, he, the painted warrior is chanting something very low.The chanting he is doing is like a lullaby to me, makes me weary almost.
I fell to the ground, the grass feels fresh on my skin, cold.I instantly awake to find the painted warrior gone, without a trace.I stand up, just to roam around, hide from my enemies.Then I go down a hill, that's where I find them, the copper wings.
My copper wings.
Wait just a second, he, the painted warrior didn't plant it, he simply dropped it in his sandal.That is how these copper wings are mine.
That man, they call him painted warrior, he saved my life.
Maribel Juarez
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