in the
small quiet
i hear the cold
grip of destiny

a struggle against the light
a struggle against the dark
a struggle wrought of fear
a struggle with no end

do not see
they are blinded
by the tears shed from their own struggle.
but still they would guide me in their fear.

no thank you.

i shall love the struggle,
and hear it melt away.

i will love the pain,
and see my soul rise.

i may love another,
and feel their soul rise.

i must love myself,
and then,
i might just fly

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