he was born of salt and sweat,
muscles burning and teeth bared;
a stain that would never come out.
he was made to rip empires apart
and the heavens were envious
because he burned so brightly.
so when they claimed him in kind
and took what was rightfully theirs
no one was surprised
especially not you.
he died in a world of ash and fear,
blood and a foul taste on his tongue;
completely and utterly alone.
Take long walks in stormy weather or through deep snows in the fields and woods, if you would keep your spirits up. Deal with brute nature. Be cold and hungry and weary.