Song of the hero

Poem by:Brian Nkereuwem Kelvin:

       SONG OF THE HERO

Born and breed,much bread without,
My breath had kept my heart through it's utmost squirms,the seeming optical illusions, severally hit by Terrestrial fiasco.

My fervour yet to dim,in great fettle I wish I had win,in mirthless grin  recoiled,hope i recoup to recount.
My childhood reminiscences of my maternal grandmother ,how she'd been through life's regurgitation,
Foraging into the grove barely dusk at dawn.

Gathering beams for gas,her lucrative
Trades ,I would behind her pick as much as I could,she'd risked her's to save mine.
Grand ma, I wish I was this grown,those tiny fingers couldn't grab much then, from you have I learnt, should I figth I can win,what I see,I can get,what I plant ,I can grow,what I sow ,I can reap.

My frailty I feign not,through endless toils have I set my pace,the redicules have only made me,I won't be  marred.
That which I would refrain,I now retain.Should I lay off ? my attainment restrained,circumventing round my pride my fear.

I shudder to be beaten by mortal enemies, crestfallen countless times
When I would loose a grip off the ladder ,and twice at the peak has it been broken ,in my lowest ebb have I redound in rectitude.

My perspiration my inspiration,smiling at the ebbing tide.
Hero's are made and not born ,there are now little frailties because others have been through it all.Their conquest and defeat enough lanyard,
Elaborate pattern ,yet one facade
experience making more heroes.

Grafted into a first rate of ardent intelligence,my endless feat born of my earnest contrivance,when and were ever this story shall be repeated afterwards,you will be the Hero.