Six Will Carry Me Before Twelve Judge Me

A man stands alone, his shadow his shield,

In a world where truth and pain won't yield.

The echoes of battle, scars that won't fade,

A soul bruised by choices, a debt long unpaid.

Each breath feels heavy, each step a test,

The demons within won't let him rest.

Memories whisper like a cruel, sharp knife,

Yet he clings to a phrase that anchors his life.

"Six will carry me before twelve judge me,"

A creed, a defiance, a vow to be free.

Not from the world, but the weight of despair,

To rise above judgment, to find solace there.

Struggling, yes, but not backing down,

Through storms that would drown or fires that crown.

He won't trade his honor for hollow relief,

Won't bow to the lies that deepen his grief.

For life is a fight, raw and unkind,

Yet courage is forged in the depths of the mind.

To carry his burden, to face what's ahead,

To choose the path where dignity's led.

"Six will carry me," not out of defeat,

But proof that his heart still dares to beat.

Before twelve judge him, he'll carve his own way,

For each step he takes keeps the darkness at bay.