Wednesday, 18 November 2015

Demons of the Dusk

Behind every warrior-heart,
is a soul battered and torn.
A soul that's weary,
and from all the war, worn.
She has a shield to protect her heart,
and bubble wrap to better her fall,
she can grow tired of fighting
of always standing tall.
She may be strong
and often never wrong,
but she's only human
she wants a love
to carry her along.
All her armour and all her might
pales in comparison to the thoughts she has at night.
For it is in the quiet,
that she stands alone 
in a real fight of her own, 
caught between her heart and her mind,
standing on a threshold of what's wrong and right.
There she stands, stripped of all armour,
vulnerable, weak to anything that could harm her.
Demons of loneliness and depression
stand before her, in an arc of aggression.
And she waits on the field,
for someone to come stand with her
waits and waits until dusk disappears.
She rises with the sun,
even though her battle isn't won,
and walks on to fight the demons she can.
Dreading the monsters of the night,
she fights the day, 
Hoping some night, she'll be an army of two 
to drive those dusk demons away.

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