Alive


There is hate and vitriol behind the words; 
Ignorance and fear powering the soul.

You’d think my armor would hold up nice and tight,
For all the times the arrows have graced its delicate metal.

There is fire behind the eyes, scorching to the touch,
For the looks they give create burns on my insides.

Yet, I try, over and over, to stand back up again.
Even when my insides sizzle and my outside crumbles to pieces.

There is something clouding their ear canals,
For they never hear the pain they produce.

Yet I can hear it all, every single scream, every single shout,
For I’ve screeched just as loud. 

There is stillness in their hearts;
It rings true with everything they do. 

Still, I hold my sword high and my heart’s strings play a melody,
Towards anyone who will listen, for I am alive.

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