Forward child

What can do? 
Innocent Guttersnipe. Who
For times knows sore
constantly on the verge of tease.

Who am i? 
I said to myself as
I wrestle through the nights
Of doubt and sorrow over my fate, 

Of bright promises of
My early days.
Who am I? 
Voice rend the air

Press onwards to the sky.
With wounded feet I stand, 
To reach forth those which
Are before and let go all behind

The battle, now, I fear not.
Opt never to stand still
At the slipping up hills.
Who am i? 

The forward child.
Who knows no defeat
I neither see or hear you
The gift in me I must stir

Light, now I see
Scube across the sky
For soon shall every tears
Be dry. And all I failed, to win.