when the past beats its drums such that its hammers
fall upon your mind
every virtue and woe
picked at
the lashings wrap around your body
stripping
skin from its soul
when you feel wrung dry
there is nothing left in you that can be taken
but to your surprise the demons still
attack
smirking, when you tearfully ask
"what do you want from me?"
know then
your unseen screams are heard
find that sanctuary
hidden deep within
draw courage from those moments
you hold so dear
make strength
rest--
someone is here
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