Ally, Contender Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

In here we are finite
But then as I wander
And believe
That we are invulnerable
Like stones under the rain
And clangor of the thunder,
Still we will shamble away
In this unsparing conflict.

And they will prattle,
Point their weaponry at
Us - their futile armaments
And fickle tactics.
They will bombard us
With the dreams of an arsonist.
They will ruin
What we have
And leave us with cold
Laughter on the floor.

They will bring us down,
They will compose our
Eulogies and sing our requiems -

But alas,
Am I just that lucky;
Luckier than any other gambler
In this gambit
To have you here,
A contender in the room
An ally in the hostile grounds.
I'll give them the beating
Of their lives,
And I will give you
The best fight there is.