The Battle

The old and the young buck, how they crash,
With hooves and antlers they reach out to lash;
The old buck is tough and wise to battle,
The young buck is strong enough not to rattle.

While off to the side, stands the doe,
Waiting to see who will win so;
She knows by which she must stand,
As they travel this great big land.

She loves them both, tis easy to see,
She looks to heaven for divine mercy;
Do not allow either spirit to fade,
For both of them by You are made.

The old and wizened bull is her mate,
The buck is her son who came so late;
Now they battle for the doe's love,
Lord, God, please send help from above.

Help them to see they each have their way,
And neither is right day after day;
Let them develop a bond so strong,
And learn that neither is really wrong.

Quiet strength is all they need,
If God's commands they always heed;
Her heart is big with love for each,
But it's a hard lesson for her to teach.

Life we live only one time,
To live it battling has no reason or rhyme;
Learn to tolerate each other's flaws,
And love will come rushing in to all.

The battle will rage on she fears,
While all are oblivious to her tears;
Someday the battle will be done,
And both will find that neither has won.