Diving in the stillness, Sitting, breathing, feeling, A distant song, a revelry Renewed the purpose of eternity. Beaten, robbed, by those he loved, Passion gone, returned as anger born, The minion forgotten in tribute to the Master, A sullen boy lost, forsaken still. No unleavened bread, No manna from the sky revealed, A desert devoid of hope, Burning sand springs eternal from their lash. There is no quit... There is no surrender... The white flag to this forgotten boy, Means certain death, left forgotten on a road. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Or so a manboy's told... "Fuck you all," is his reply, Words can sting more than a sharpened knife. The Sun rises as it always does, Darkness reigns in a young man's eyes. The heat of rage denies his heart, And the wound left in his side. There can be no quit... No defeat in the final bell tolled, He cannot stop, for the will's defeat, Is the ending breath for the unloved soul. A boy, now man, Struggling for his identity, Tears with the newborn he holds, Love, discovered in her cry. A boy, now man, Torn and tortured in the juxtaposition, They, those out there, cannot be trusted, Yet, with her, his determined hand rises above the embers. There is no quit in this man... For he feels a renewed destiny. The Sun has risen with such complexity, The Moon still beckons and teases his insanity. A certain ending, beholden to no one, A mission lurking just beneath his surface, To love...again or for the very first time, The Wind, it knows what it is doing. Some things lost, and some things gained, The process pushing him along, It throws him into the darkness of his mind, He is forced to face the demons that roared within his soul. He is just no quit in this man.... The longing in his soul awakens him, The sadness in his heart inspires him, The entirety of his purpose test at the end of a rope. He's alive, awakened to the journey at hand, Each step a realization of survival, Of purpose, of arriving at love's great doorstep. Of knocking on her door. He knows, not from some crazy notion of insecurity, But from his place of sculpted certainty, He's arrive, yet the journey not completed, He knocks, but will she let him in? There is no quit in his heart, She will be loved, for each scar on him a lesson told, Each footfall a song unto its own, Each note a tribute to who she is. Alas, the door opens, and there she stands. He has finally found his home. The journey still not completed, Yet, finally, he finally feels its purpose.