The Triumph of the Will

The quill felt cozy,

Embracing the warmth of his fingers,

The ink dripped,

Eager with expectations,

His command over language returned.

The maple wood didn’t break,

The strings wouldn’t corrode,

Ever eager for his return,

When he put the bow to the string,

The music was as enchanting as ever.

The audience held their breath,

His supporters wouldn’t leave him,

Their applause never meant to be withheld,

No wasted actions, no wasted words,

He was the orator they always knew.

The sacrifices were made,

They knew he wouldn’t notice,

But that didn’t perturb them,

Their love was rewarded,

When they had their friend back.

The dreams were back,

The universe conspired to help him,

As unfair advantage, life was so not fair,

The fate welcomed him with open arms,

For it is to be The Triumph of the Will