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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Emotions, how they flow

Violent, a churning flood

Surging past the ramparts

Supposed to protect my heart.

 

Writhing shadows surround me

Tearing through my soul

Feasting off the harvest

Reaped from their insipid trespass.

 

Gentle words and soft touch

Shadows whither and die

Taking with them the ruin

Of the bulwark they did destroy.

 

Ensorcelled by the light

Vulnerable, though protected anew

The tide ebbs and flows

Unblemished and pure.

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