Dreams

Thoughts fill her head
As she sleeps in her stead.
She wishes he still had
The things that weren't bad.
Her heart is torn
And her mind is worn.
Her dreams are haunted
Her strength is daunted,
Yet as she wakes
Panting with the shakes,
She instinctively reaches inside
And pulls the sword at her side.
The time of pain is ever persistent,
But she never leaves her strength too distant.
She finds strength in herself,
But itâ??s not from a shelf.
Night after night,
The sword at her right,
Comes out of the sheathe,
Only to find the wreath,
Still on her door.
When will the nightmares end?
And the darkness in her bend?
Will she always be a prisoner of the dark,
Or will she find the light and be a singing lark?
So long has she been a child of the night,
When will things turn out alright?
Never, there is nothing but pain from here on out, she says
As she lies in her stead.
And remains lost to the overbearing darkness within her