Achilles

Too what saves versus what I want to save

For strength and weakness is never born.
Created and molded, shaped to perfection.

Over pools of the molten, by strung heel- body dipped in the forsaken.
Left to die betwixt all the loving lies,
Holding fast as the times long to pry...
Life- usurping spirit & pride.

A fell from cliff; sharpened rocks now play their prepared stage.
Cutting by blunt force, precious parts out of my way.
Still alive, survived to look upward and see
Dignity lost to the faces above.

But with one foot, surely, I can stand.
The one foot that stayed apart from hell's fiendish hands.
A heel I have held sure and firm in its hope of salvation.
A heel that holds prop to a door
So far away.

And when I start to take a step
I realize I was wrong.
I hadn't any feet left.

So how is it I stand?
And what is holding the door?