Wayfare

Behold a man, as I speak,
Knew he'll never reach a peak.
A metamorphosis he aspires,
Or -to be frank- desires.
Ceasing wasn't even a goal,
For you, my dearest foal.
Galloping through the land,
Where I saw doubts and fears.
Hold me by the hand
As I guide you out in tears.
Hear ye, Hear ye;
Mark my words and see.
Invictus you'll be,
And victorious I shall dub thee.