Beyond the Fist

With tempered fist imbued with fury,  

I travelled the paths of the world, 

Clenched I envisioned well fought glory, 

Never thwarted by empty word. 

They called me a brute inane and vain,

What mindless triumph could I seek, 

I told them- Go train to punch through pain, 

You would learn why you are so weak.

 

Within I glowed with dark crimson blood, 

Which would roar as calm waterfalls, 

Alas my covenant had thin walls, 

Their sickly virtue swept by thick flood.

 

Was the fist just to knock foes out cold, 

To let beaten hopes burn no more, 

Fortified through conflict new and old, 

Did the fist not attain much more?