The Conqueror With The Conqueror

Many of times have I rode into battle.
I am a conquerer with a conquerer.
I move forward boldly through death valley,
as if it were nothing.
I have fought in the snow,
and have conquered pneumonia.
I have fought in the desert,
and have conquered starvation.
I have pushed through the jungle,
and have conquered high fever.
Now, as I proceed fearlessly through death valley,
I lead my army with my head held high,
and my ears wide open.
Wear are you enemy so that I may conquer you.
Now as the enemy shows himself,
just as fearless as me,
I stare him right in the eyes.
We are both fearless.
We are both equally smart.
It seems like an equal match,
a clash of the titans if you will.
Yet after a long grueling fight in death valley,
I gain the upper-hand.
Some might wonder why.
What made me so special?
It is not experience.
It is not the training,
and although I have a great army,
it is not even them who I give credit to.
Although it is the soldiers that fight,
I could not conquer,
without having the conqueror, my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, on my side.

To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.