fighting kind

not owed to chance but to the deeper view
of where to go and how to cast the die
what goes to past or future in the eye
will pass without a note from white to blue
eager to calm more eager to renew
the charge to argue what we might apply
to those not happy with the open lie
a breath is taken in the rising dew
tragic the marvel of the choice denied
by those who see the mountain as a wall
not as a challenge to the glowing mind
nor the fit target of the youthful pride
there is a thing that keeps their hearts too small
and they do not respect the fighting kind