Oh, dear friend or foe

We both remember a time where my spirit was low.

There was once a cold darkness in my soul

That didn’t allow me to feel whole.

I felt it whisper in my ear

“You do not belong here.

Put down your helmet take off your pads

Despite how much you may be glad,

A loser you will remain.

For your soul has already been drained.”

I look at my helmet and I said

“A loser I was, and my soul indeed bled

But while I may hear you, I also hear greatness calling.

For the past decade I might have been crawling

But the sun is on the rise and the horizon is near

For my past I do indeed fear

Today is the day I walk out on the field

A loser I am not for I will never yield!”

I walked pass the darkness and played the game

Once I came back I felt my fear was tamed.

The fear of my past to rest was laid.

Do you remember that day?

Whisperer.