Push, yes, push to the breaking point
like there is no day to look ahead
and let Providence give the breath,
and the air and the dirt on my face.
My voice might crack, but not I
for I will sound my battle cries
till my agonies start to hound me
and my fears yell spit on my ear.
I do not tremble to be a tale
a cautionary tale of failure
because die I might, fall hard I may
but I will rise up, to the Day's bidding.
