I sit with my hands on my head
Asking a higher power in the lonely hour
I go to bed praying it isn’t so
When I open my eyes it’s all that I know

Do you know now what you should’ve known then
I feel the silence creeping back in
Knowing my justice has found all your sins
You better hope that I won’t hurt

I’m going to win this wicked war
Down so deep, no I can never heal inside
These scars will never lie
So I will walk beside the ghost you left behind

Stoic Poetry

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