The Warrior’s Lament

Dreams die hard
From my Polyvore collection

She watched the crimson droplet
as is slithered on it’s way
down, down, then suspended in the air
for the duration of it’s journey
to the hard ground.

Another followed
then another, and another.
In rapid succession they fell
splattering in abstract designs
on the aged linoleum.

She felt a tear run it’s silent
course down her cheek
following the same descent
to fall in liquid plops
to the same end.

The water of her life
flowing outward toward
dirty yellow floor
the pressure on her heart
and soul, easing now.

She looked briefly down
at the wounds on her arms
like claws had raked them
pulling her down
into the darkness.

But there was the light
at last, there at the end
of the tunnel
beckoning her with
promises of freedom.

The battle had been long and hard
The warrioress was weary
down to her very soul
weary of the daily battles
that raged within.

She deserved this, she was sure
to rest now, and forever more
in the eternal light
of blissful, dreamless

The warrioress dropped
to one knee
so heavy was her burden.
She looked longingly
towards the light.

One last long glance
at the promise of rest
then she turned
and began to claw her way
back along the dark tunnel.

For when a warrioress
drops to her knees
the battle may be over
but the war
has just begun.

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