You will hear us. We will roar, hoarse and passionate. Our armies will fall upon our enemies with swift accuracy. Devastation will be king among their broken bodies.
We are an anomaly to society. Us who are not bothered with the fetching of bread for our tables. Us who are more concerned with mobilizing and activating that which is already instilled in us. Us who wake in the early hours of morning, don our armor and bend to the strategics and mapping out of our destinies.
We are the fighters. We've gone through the gauntlet and been stripped bare of all but the raw instinct to survive and protect. We are the women who walk in the depths, in the darkness. We are the women who hear the groan and ache of agonized souls. We stand shoulder to shoulder with the strong-man, our eyes trained on the battle below.
Yes. We get tired. Our souls grow weary with the lack of support. We cannot win these battles on our own but The Warrior in us is too stubborn to let the enemy take ground.
And there are lulls in the loud cracks of clanging swords, and in those moments we find ourselves lonely. To our left is empty space because we refuse to take a partner that would die in the fight. Beneath the rough exterior is a heart of flesh, and we choose to stand alone rather than sacrifice those we could potentially love, those would be shot down quickly. We refuse to take a man who would stand back from the edge for fear, or safety or common sense.
But that is not our destiny. Nor our focus.
Nor is it our truth.
The truth is we are celebrated. We are those who stand tall in strength and in leadership. We are those who see further. We are those whose grip is firm and whose spirit is unshakeable. We are those who believe in the fire that burns within all of us. Those who see beyond the flesh to the warrior within.
We are those who carry hope.
And that should not be taken or treated lightly.