For all that can be taken,
Or surrendered under force.
Unless otherwise they are forsaken,
Shall return in all due course.
For when the battle is exhausted,
It may well be a sin.
That while next in line to victory,
The victor just gave in.
For victory is the constant,
Of the tenacious soul.
That understands divinities hands,
And sees failure too great a toll.
It is the dreamer that shapes the future,
As the sculptor shapes the clay.
To create the art of an inspired heart,
And a vision of a better way.