The Warrior

She reached down and picked her sword up that lie waiting on the ground, her arms were steady as she raised it high and proud, she had won her fight with cancer, she was only six years old. With A warrior cry her voice was heard for miles, The warrior was born that day. She rolls out into the battlefield with her bow and arrow in her 10 year old hands, she knew that More that More was Coming, she knew she couldn't lose She prayed "father please protect me from the disease that took my legs" You could hear God's answer as she slayed her demons of torture and pain, With her bow raised high above her head, With a battle cry, a warrior was born that day.

She looked down at the club she stood holding in her hands, her nightmares of her accident lie shattered at her feet. The bandages worn as badges wrapped around her teenage head, shone brightly in the sun. her hand raised her club high above her head. With her battle cry, another warrior was born. She bent down and picked the bat up That he had thrown on the ground She could hear the sirens coming, she knew that she won, her prayers had been answered, he wouldn't hurt her again, through her tears she began to smile as she heard him fight his binds, and with a victory cry, a warrior was born that day.