Yield To Healing

Often beyond the din,

There is war raging within.

No busted knee,

No bleeding chin,

Or evidence of the conflict.

Only feeling like it in effect.

No upper cut,

No swollen eye,

Though anarchies weapons wrath,

Crusades of tyrannical war craft.

The emotional pillaging

And rending of hearts,

Similar to cellular puncturing blows

With debilitating blood flow.

Such a vicious defeat

Leads to an agonizing retreat

Into thoughts thick with failure,

But remembering only our valor.

The war inside is done,

Tears salved wounds gone.

And for all the pain it takes,

We all yield to healing in its wake.

ria – circa 2010