A revised poem I posted before about ones struggles with breaking unhealthy life cycles |
My Shields Fading Sanctuary I used to try and hide behind a shield that I would wield called pride. It's saved me from experiencing excruciating pain countless times in life. But now it's starting to show all its wear and lose its once gleaming shine. I used to view its ability to protect me as a strength in this fight. But when I put it down to my side and face mother nature's blade I realized, I move freely and avoid her strikes in more effective ways without its weight restricting my stride. Sometimes it's easier to set everything aside and run towards the sharp edge blind. So, you don't die in fear living with the anticipation of what might. That's like dying by a million tiny cuts, wondering if this is the last one. Still, I think I've got a few pieces of my protective set I've not even tried to take off yet. It's Ironic I thought all my protections coverage could help deflect an incoming impact. When it just covers up the scars with scuffs, so that my exterior can at least appear intact. And It's sadly laughable it just makes me even more susceptible to exactly that. I'm a lone dark knight in crumpled armour, trying to wage war for his kingdom's former. Now anytime I swing this blunt sword against an intended target, I end up being hurt far more. So, it's no wonder new lands are never explored since the enemy ahead is never conquered. Instead of finding a helping hand to repair my worn-down protections and sharpen my weapon. I try to keep forging forward, At this point only towards another unfortunate end. I hope I don't pass them down to the next, cause it's as if their precious heirloom like gems embedded into my DNA's strands, the armour I'm wearing and even the broken object I hold in my hands. So, it's going to keep on happening unless I break these inherently learned curse like trends that've been persisting in my family for generations. |