Not my own strength..

The battle is not over, in fact, it has only just begun. The agonizing torment can already be heard throughout the battlefield as Jeremy seems to be falling to his knees, weakened by what feels to be a thousand fiery darts weighing him down. His sword would be found laying a good twenty feet behind him. His armor has been found broken and left in the mud; lost. Tears now fall from his eyes as defeat is on the horizon. Where is your God now?! He has betrayed you! Him and all of your friends and family. Where is the love that you so desire? You're nothing. You always have been nothing, and you always will be nothing! No wife. No children. No friends. No God. You have been defeated. His body tightened and fists were made as he heard someone's prayer flow gently with the wind that held its' own against the opposing rainfall. Suddenly, Jeremy's sword had appeared in his hands as if he had it all along. With difficulty he raised his broken body up and stuck the sword in the mud, using it as a cane in attempt to stand. No avail. Jeremy found himself continuing to falling back into the mud and the muck.. Which seemed to be much more muck than mud at this point. "Oh Strength, where art thou? My flesh is weak. My faith is shaken. I cannot win this alone.. Help me, O' Lord.. lest I find myelf engulfed in this darkness; lost forever."