Burdens
A sword,
A cross,
A pen to bear-
I’m left wishing now
That I could dance
Without a care.
My childhood is gone-
Drifting in the wind.
The nightmares, at my clothes they tear.
They whisper their secrets
They tell no lies
An escape, I do not dare.
Defiance is fruitless,
It’s my burden to take.
It’s a good thing I don’t easily scare.
The ideas won’t take hold,
As the darkness I fight
Better than the demons I fair.
I’m taking a childish risk
And I must question my judgment
As I race to the shadows lair.
But I grow weary,
I must stop and breathe.
I don’t think my pen can take much more wear.
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