The Day the Beast Lost
I woke each break with cast a shadow on my chest,
a nameless weight that stole my needed rest.
It spoke in lies I dared not try to fight,
and turned the morning darker than the night.
I laughed in rooms so no one saw the ache,
while every smile felt brittle, thin, and fake.
It fed on doubt, on all I held in fear,
until my hope grew faint then disappeared.
And saw not ruin but a quiet resurrection.
A spark within me, stubborn, fierce, and small,
whispered, rise now…you will not fall.
I never struck it down with a conqueror's sword—
I just smply prevented confiding the fibs it made.
I stood unarmored yet would not yield—
my heart-- the only weapon I could wield.
It roared, it clawed, but I refused to bend;
its reign of silence met a sudden end.
And in that breath, my life was rearranged—
The day the beast cut down, was the day I changed.
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