Within this jar, hides all my little monsters.
Black and obscure, they are fearsome yet pure.
No one can see them, but they can see all.
Until the jar inevitably falls.
Now you see, my monsters flying and free.
Wreaking havoc as far as they flee.
A claw for agony--a fang for sorrow.
A cloak for shame--a grin of pain.
Resistance is fuel, and they are the fire.
For every inch of denial's length,
They grow steadfast, yearning to meet.
The only way to quell the beasts,
Is to accept the scars--to have no fear of harm.
There is strength in trust--to become robust.
Harmony is my Excalibur,
To pierce their heart of traumas.
They roar clamorous curses, as the misery disperses.
Oh, the joy of release--to reclaim inner peace.
An emptiness so strangely bittersweet--
My secret, to keep.

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