top of page
Search

The Warrior's Journey

  • Writer: Maitha Alhabtari
    Maitha Alhabtari
  • Sep 24, 2023
  • 1 min read

I was five years old when I first won the game,

Defeating the villain, creating my own fame,

But what did it all mean? I couldn't decipher,

Who was I in this world? Where was my place of desire?


I soon realized that the game was just a start,

A new battleground where I had to play my part,

The fights were different, weapons my own creation,

And each year, the battles got harder, a new foundation.


I tried to quit, but the warrior in me couldn't let go,

I had become one with the game, a part of my soul,

I lived for the thrill of pushing my limits to the brink,

And for that one moment of victory, I would do anything.


But who was I, really? Lost in the battlefield of life,

Trying to survive and thrive through pain and strife,

Was I just a character, like in a game or a play,

Or was there something deeper, more to convey?


Through it all, I discovered a sense of purpose,

To fight for what I believe, to never lose focus,

To stand up against injustice and strive for peace,

To face the challenges head-on, to never give in or cease.


The battles may be harder, but the warrior's heart is strong,

And with each win or loss, I find where I belong,

For in this journey of life, the warrior in me lives on,

Fighting for a better tomorrow, until the battle is won.


So, I may not know who I am if not a warrior,

But in this game of life, it's the role I am destined to conquer,

And with each obstacle faced and obstacle overcome,

The warrior's journey continues, till the next battle has begun.


ree

 
 
 

Recent Posts

See All
Hand Me Down Hearts

I grew up learning the shape of absence tracing it along doorframes pressing my fingers to walls hoping they would teach me how to fold myself into love without snapping in the corners You moved throu

 
 
 
The Key

He said I ruin everything I touch. That my name tastes like rust. That even silence flinches when I enter a room. He said many awful things to me. Spat them like confessions, like the words themselves

 
 
 

Comments


  • alt.text.label.Twitter
  • alt.text.label.Instagram

©2023 by Maitha Writes.

bottom of page