Courage In The Soul

Courage In The Soul
© Surazeus
2025 05 11

When tyrants rise to grip the Earth with hate, 
her rich hills recoil, rivers blast to dust, 
harsh sun glares down through veils of mournful ash, 
and stars flame out in cinders of despair, 
since air boils thick with lies of mailed command 
till Freedom hides her widowed heart in black. 

Yet from our common soil the bold voice springs, 
unheralded by mark of noble birth, 
and cries against arrogance of the throne 
with breath that seems as fleeting as calm hope, 
yet mountains shake when true hearts dark to speak, 
cracking gold thrones with swords honest men wield. 

Fierce as the lion chained within their breast, 
when Justice calls with trumpet clang of fate, 
Courage seeks neither comfort nor reward, 
but stands alone with Sword of Liberty 
against cruel legions spurred by tyranny, 
one resolved soul far mightier than their greed. 

Though loyal martyrs die with open eyes, 
not weak with tears, but blazing as they fight, 
their unjust deaths inspire souls of the land 
as seed of fire that burns the frozen yoke, 
and tyrants write their doom with bloody ink 
that flows from wounds of their oppressive hate. 

While cowards kneel and barter peace for chains, 
and flatter power with honeyed servile tongues, 
brave people stride with Spirit of the Truth, 
wearing their wounds as medals on their hearts, 
along dark paths, yet fear no war-smoked night, 
for stars are born where Courage dares to breathe. 

Each soul who strides with upright strength of faith, 
who will not bend to keep their body whole, 
knows wealth is not in gold, but in resolve, 
for tyrants hoard, but Courage freely gives 
with honest vows that remain after death 
as whisper forged from thunder in our bones. 

The hollow crown weighs nothing more than dust, 
nor is law just that serves the selfish will 
when kings forget their contract with the state, 
for when they rule as gods the Earth will quake 
till hearts of the people forge swords of hope, 
then tyranny, though armored, bleeds in fear. 

So stand, my soul, on honest scarp of truth, 
though winds of power howl against our faith, 
for Wisdom is my lamp no storm can quench 
when I strike, not for hate, but bond of right, 
since every Truth we speak in gloom of fear 
rings bright with Bell of Courage in the soul.