Harsh, bright light - 

A concussion 

Ringing in your ears. 

Feelings of regret,

Yet of power. 

Sorry, not sorry

Never apologize

What's done is done

Or is it?

He calls to you

Take revenge, my child

Avenge your broken soul

And you do. 

You flood with courage - 

You stand up again. 

There is more than one kind

Of battle.



I have previously published this poem on tumblr

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