I've been utterly broken. I've been so far down. I've slept on rock bottom. Made myself a meal and stayed awhile. I built a tower there and found shelter from the rain. Still on the bottom, I slept easier in newfound warmth. I climbed slowly, stacking blocks of stone to take my tower higher. Further from the bottom. I sat and I waited. I rested. I climbed more. I stumbled and I fumbled stones over the ledge. And I watched as my tower never fell. My tower made of stone. The very same stone made of the rock bottom. So here I am - alive, just as I was before. And now I see that strife lives in life just as does glory.
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