Vultures circling overhead, watching me, waiting for the final moment. Weary through so much fighting, I lie there on the ground no longer caring. Anxiety has whittled me down to the core, exposing each and every weakness.
And yet, the remnants of the warrior spirit remain. A dying flame, evidence of what once was. Time passes by; how long I lay there I cannot tell. Then a gentle breeze, a still small voice, passes over me. It flows through my soul, stirring the embers and reigniting the fire.
Victory is mine, it is within my reach. Unsteadily I get back up, and already the vultures are fleeing. Today is not the end. I will fight again.