When something dies inside of you, it is
hard to not kill it again, especially if it
was once brought back to life in false hope.
So many die by this principle never truly living
Because according to reality, it is
Sadly a true fact,
being kicked to the ground enough times may make
A warrior out of you, but there is also
that danger of becoming reserved to fate.
And so in bitterness find balance, in hate find
A safe harbour, in case you too become too lost
A hardened heart will never realize that although
Seemingly immune to the targets that are shot at it,
Eventually the chips and cracks will render it
let it crumble.
When something eats away at you and nags at
You even in peaceful sleep, it is hard to quench its
voice and silence its cries
It’s hard when you have a yearning inside of you
That you yourself can’t even begin to define.
It’s hard when you can’t even recognize that the
emptiness has become familiar to you in itself.