He that endures to the end
He that fights his flailing
Faith and unbelief’s inertia
Shall smile on the day of winning

But to endure one must cure
The syndrome of uncertainty
For who can fight for a cause
That he knows not-with alacrity

The knowing is not for showing
For times come to dig and resolve
When what seems like defeat
Stalks wounded pride like salve

It matters not in the plot
For the whims and tides of battle
Do not determine the outcome
So be not like cowardly cattle

Might of the Spirit is right
Not fleshy warring with tech
And Grace lifts drooping hands
Far higher than sinews can fetch

When the race’s medals are given
After the veil of flesh is riven
The reward for forever running
Will be the crown of forever living