20/5/2021
The battles that carved us into fighters brought out a dormant strength --nested deep inside our fearful souls ,awaiting the times of mental wars.
It grew, and fed on exhaustion, intolerant to requests of obedience and trepidation as if they were a nasty allergy -always launching an explosive reaction.
And as strength slowly bloomed like a May rose- or like a cherry tree reaching fruition-
fear shrank and fell like a useless appendix that served no purpose inside an evolved psyche. Shed like the leaves of deciduous saplings on an autumn afternoon.
So, when the time comes where fear is used against our souls , the ammunition of the tyrant will always fall short,
for we drained ourselves of this mind-made poison, and now our spirits only know vigour like the flowers that blossom under winter's white coat.
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬ᵖᵒᵉᵗʳʸ
Poetry𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨 (n.) 𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘤 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦, 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯; 𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘻𝘰𝘯 Poems posted daily, for every day of the year. Works of an undefined theme with a touch of fantastical elements as well as a healthy dose of r...
