The Warrior Without Armor
There is a fire in my soul.
I realize that I, along with time, will soon die
But i quiver with fear at the sight of pain
And i cover my ears to the sound of agony
I am not a warrior
My fire is easy to deplete.
My battle scars are numerous,
and my victories few.
My mind reaches new levels of anxiety when I think of the clock
Ticking. Ticking. Ticking.
The ticking will soon stop.
The batteries soon to be depleted.
The fire will soon burn out
Or it will be washed with torment and sorrows.
I want the sounds to go away.
I want the endless talking in my head to cease.
I do not know how to end it.
Not the time, but the pain.
I want more time.
I am greedy,
or at least my head keeps telling me so.
I do not know how to end it.
The endless talking.
The endless whispering.
The endless madness.
I just want it to end.
It to en-
.
.
.
.
.
-She didn’t believe she was a warrior.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
