Wall, rock, place and grace

Back against the wall.
Between a rock
and a hard place
but I won’t bend,
too busy
to be scared
like my Bigmama said,
I scoff at danger
and convert it
into words
to live forever
sequenced in the poetic
as my Grandma
declared
on a summer day,
no deserts
will collude
for my demise
that I can surmise,
I shrug it off
and imbibe
baptismal waters
from the edge
in stead
of defeat,
I walk upright
up on concrete
or sand
regardless
of where
I am
on Earth
where I wander,
endeavoring
to be kind
while evil pillage
and cannibalize
while pointing
their finger
at others.

They can’t stand
that you are King,
won’t kiss
their ring,
they say
insidious things
hurtling verses while
harboring curses
under breath…
their duress
is the test
powered
by way of
cold hearts,
but the mighty
are known
to scoff
at the scurrlious
and
their hollow talk
not walking
the walk
as summarily
they will pay
the price.