Oh, set the world before my feet
But show me not a path
Light not my way Apollo’s fleet
Brightness though thou hath
Give me no sword to wield in war
No courage to fight my foes
Give me no keys to open locked doors
No strength to shield harsh blows
Let me look Fear in the eyes
Let me face sorrow and Death
Let me observe the river of lies
And feel destruction’s breath
Gifts, my story does not need
I shall walk it, I shall lead.
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Hrrmmm. I rather like this. I wasn't sure I would, but then once I read it through I decided that I really did like it. Nice work on that one. ^^
I enjoyed your description and imagery, and the mixture of old english and modern language was done better than I though it would be, although it grates in places. Which is why I suggest going back over the poem and watching the flow of it. I think you will find it loses traction in some areas.
One qualm comes in the second last line of the poem. I like it but I do nothing think you should use "my story" the story indicates something other than the narrators life, and I think it should be his life. Perhaps "Gifts me life" Or something similar? - just a suggestion.
I think this is done really well, good work.
*Hearts* Le Penguin.