Battling....

Inflammation of the sore heart,
is far from the mortal form's capacity to contemplate,
Breathlessness and ache defines the physical self,
Darkness and deliberate distance from the earthly world
defines the inner-self,

But do ye who call my own understand the tumult?
Leave alone the intensity of the upheaval,
I contest and challenge their capability of such reflection!
Nay, but I declare ye cannot fathom what is damaged within me,

To stand alongside the hurt form, be not same,
As to stand in affirmation to the agonized pneuma's plea,
Try not to mend what lays scattered,
Endeavor to bring together the pieces of a broken mirror,
And you shall see the scars still remain, ready to turn into wounds,

Speculate oh worldly souls,
Observe and ponder over what say you all,
And you shall foresee a dead form, still shackled,
For she died fighting and still tied....

(c) S.S


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