Beneath These Weary Eyes
Deep beneath these weary eyes are stories never told. I keep them securely locked away, these, my demons of old.
In the dungeons of my mind I hold them, prisoner, they can't hurt me anymore, they can scream at me but I won't listen.
Every once in a while I pay them a visit, just to remind me what once was a danger, now isn't.
I shall never set them free, they will be confined until the day has come, when I can finally let them out of the stone walls, in the open to be hung.
No longer will they scream, only a ghost remains, a silent specter will look at me, taking its pain and at last, surrender.
Long and harsh was the war, a mighty loss was taken, but it's me with the final victory, these scars won't haunt me anymore.
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This poem is about a haunting past that I'm trying to imagine myself overcoming as if I am a Queen on my own heart.