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.
