Yesterday was bright and full of life,
Seemingly gone, past days of strife.
Assumed cured, but only in remission,
Returning, pounding life into submission.

A storm, rolling in from the East.
Pounding rain upon, driving sleet.
A hungry, gnashing, unyeilding beast.
Resisting alone, an arduous feat.

Tearing now over scars never healed,
Once more letting blood upon field.
Staring through haze for the defeated,
Resignation descends, only retreated.

yet stand fast, my noble warrior king
you haven't forfieted everything
you still hold much of the ground you gained

so yes, scars were reopened
yet not as large as when first appeared
and there is no shame from pulling out of the rain

so let the storm wail and wage war on the earth
and let it howl and gnash its teeth
while you rest under cover
knowing yet there will be another
time for you two to meet.

and you shall be rested
and wiser
and yes, perhaps torn again
but yet - torn less
wounded less severe.

ao stand fast, my noble warrior king
you haven't forfieted everything
you still hold much of your inner self and strength

Bravo gentlemen!
We are wiser with every single storm approaching us!