Wounds onto the Tender

Trembling voice denying the heirloom forced
upon heroes who want nothing but to refuse their call.
Birthed to descend the stairs of doom into abyss,
to fend off dragons while the world peacefully sleeps.
Their inner trees to charcoal burn, rage
rises invisible from every hero’s pore,
from their sensitive skin – too thin –
soul scorched with inability to force
their hearts to grow uncaring and cold.

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