philebookworm

For the love of the written word

An Accolade


race

For every winning streak
And countenance of victory
The humbling words remain
the garland of success.

For is it not in every combat
An effort pushed and heaved
Beyond the face of adversity
The winner reigns supreme.

Be not afraid to waste
Sweet words of glorious praise
To the victor of the battle
The winner of the race.

In every man’s time is a time
For sweet triumph and bitter defeat
Yours may come too soon
Yours may come too late.

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2 thoughts on “An Accolade

  1. very good like how you end this 😉 good day

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