A warrior's spirit

By: Autumn

Iron shackles round my hands,

Ball and chain hooked to my feet,

Weak and thin from rations meager,

Drooping eyelids with dark circles.

Once a happy, joyful child,

Free from hunger and from cold,

Taken to this life of horror,

Thinking back I shed a tear.

Cruelly does my captor treat me,

Painful lashes when I'm slow,

Toiling for the cruel one daily,

Living on just bread and water.

But I will not lay down to die,

A fiery vengeance burns inside,

My body may be owned by him,

But my mind belongs to no one.

I know one day I will escape,

And he will pay for all my grief,

Although I may be shackled now,

My heart is wild and free.

I tell myself I will escape,

The warrior lives inside of me,

But if I die I will have tried,

And died so proud and free.

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