I've been fighting so many battles...
My sword is weeping
My shield is dented
My armor bloodied

The magic in my eyes has long
since been robbed from me.
Though are I times I want to
roll over and die,
I don't...

One cannot be strong all the time
But I try not to let others see the chinks in my armor
Of my mind
Of my soul
Of my heart

I'm so tired...
But now,  at least,
my heart is now accepting a concept I have always known.
I now sees that grave reality.