The Ink-Tipped Sword

She dipped her sword in dark blue ink and placed it on the page
Voices--memories of the past had joined as one and raged
She knew the best and final way to lay the beast to rest
So now with sword to paper swift she hopes to pass the test

Things long laid dormant start to rise and finally speak their minds
Scabs and wounds of old—oozing secrets lost through time
To be heard is their demand—each begging to begin
With ink-tipped sword she ventures on to free them with her pen.

So much to say--yet words so few to paint the picture just
And yet the story must be told, no second thoughts—a must
Battle raging—much to lose, yet so much more to gain
Run on now words and fill my page and take with you the pain

Now if my story you should read, don’t just make use your eyes
For only through an open heart is heard the battle cries
For victory! And freedom! From the haunting of a past
The beast—conquered! Put to rest! Silenced at last

Let Freedom Ring!