Willpower Poem by Andrew Lee

I hugged my young child closely.

Tears dried the dirt

darkening the corners of my eyes.

She quietly, starkly pierced the dagger

into her stomach, deep, deeper,

muttering small screams

as blood spread and blossomed

in my palms, body and face.

I pressed my lips

against her shadow of death.

The rogue soldiers shouted and cursed.

One of them plunged his rusty bayonet

into my thigh and slashed the side of my body.

I shouted in pain before I lost consciousness.

I crouched over my quiet child.

She refused to be raped.