Don’t look through my armor

you won’t like what you see,

Don’t look through my armor

at the darkness that’s me,

I’m barren and tormented

don’t open that door,

Its a hurricane a whirlwind

throws most to the floor,

Jagged pieces that cut

shattered like glass,

Move on keep on walking

this door you should pass,

For if you opened this door

you should bare,

A torrential hurricane

that seems to not care,

Battle hardened

made a warrior from life,

That has thrown up enough heartache

danced on opinions knife,

On the other side

resides a quiet glen,

One given to nature

not seen by men,

And there upon 

the softest grass,

As the sun shines down

Shadows like

stained glass,

Lies a flower

jaded but pure,

Crushed a little

but stronger than before,

Beware of this flower

as it comes with these words….

….I am but a flower, so delicate and soft, a mixture of blood and tears, transparent when held aloft, life it gives you 2 choices, you can be harsh winter or soft sun, crush this little flower closed, or allow it to gently come undone….


.x.

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