Had I yielded, fallen at your feet
You’d happily have tossed me out in the street
As it is, held strong and retained my pride
It irks you, angers you, petty joy denied

Had I faltered, altered, robbed of my footing
You’d be the first one pointing, circling, hooting
Now you glower and grumble, pout and frown
Irate this warrior isn’t some spectacle or clown

Had I shown fear and followed its lead
You’d have torn me to pieces with unholy speed
Still you poke at me, hoping for holes
My resolve is absolute, you hate that it grows

I stand here whole, unspoiled, triumphant
Untouched by schemes, of failure defiant
You lurk in the dark, refuse to concede
The battle is over; now you must bleed.