Beyond the Fist

With tempered fist imbued with fury,  

I trekked the paths of the world, 

Clenched I had visioned hard fought glory, 

Thwarted by no empty word. 

Most called me a brute inane and vain,

What mindless feat could I seek, 

I told them to train to punch through pain, 

And learn why they are still weak.

 

Within I glowed with dark crimson blood, 

Which would roar as calm waterfalls, 

Sadly my covenant had thin walls, 

Their frail virtues swept by thick flood.

 

So beyond the fist were all thrashed cold, 

Where splintered hopes burned no more? 

Fortified through strife new and old, 

Did the fist not attain much more?