Behind Enemy Lines

How have I made it?
Gift of divine endurance
All I can think of

Being gripped so hard
Then wrestling myself free
I sit quietly

Hardly make a sound
Simply reviewing the lines
With new found freedom

There's not much to do
The fog of war refracts it
A fog now lifting

My strength returning
And my senses now improved
By my position

Stand behind the lines
The enemy cannot touch
Where he's disallowed

Feeling the Sun's warmth
Remember my arena
Physically is here

I open the gates
As the flood rushes past me
I'm feeling revived

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