Battle Of Will (S) Poem by T J Morgan

Nights misty tendrils searing the senses,
and the fragrance of change lifts the soul.
You sit in the starlight, brooding and pensive,
and I see you struggle with self control.
The turmoil within you battles,
indecision boils and rattles,
pain visible, fiery and raw,
confusion at the door.
I wish I could help soothe your angst,
but you journey alone, strong and proud,
and as the flowers turn their heads away,
I leave you now, to welcome the new day,
to fulfill your path, on your lonely road..
the man that walks by himself.