FABLE Poem: The Final Fight, by Justin Prine

In the fading light of a weary day,
A man stands firm, through shadows play,
His heart a drum, steady and loud,
Facing the storms, beneath the shroud.

Each breath a battle, each step a test,
He feels the weight of the world on his chest,
Memories flash like sparks in the night,
Fueling the fire for his final fight.

With scars like stories etched on his skin,
He fights not for glory, but the strength within,
For love ones lost, for dreams not yet dreamed,
In the depths of struggle, hope still gleamed.

The echoes of doubt swirl thick in the air,
Yet he draws from the courage that’s always been there,
As shadows converge, he raises his hand,
Determined to stand, to make his last stand.

With one final roar, he charges the night,
A blaze in his heart, a warrior’s light,
For in this last moment, he knows he’s alive,
And through the darkness, his spirit will thrive.

When the dust settles and silence reigns,
He’ll leave behind echoes of laughter and pain,
For though the fight ends, the spirit ignites,
In the heart of a man who embraced his last fight.