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Writer's pictureHana Mahmood

Silent War 

In the echoes of my mind, 

His words I find.

"You boast of sorrow," he claimed,

"For bearing scars, you're named."

Perhaps that's why love I shun, 

Fearful of flaunting pain, undone. 

Shifting focus away from me,

I dread the thought of you, you see. 

With each visitation in my mind,  Immobility, a bind.

I resist embracing you like him,

To escape the cycle, broken and grim.

Yet, within this silent war, 

A yearning for something more.

A whisper of hope, faint but near,

Resilience awakening, overcoming fear.

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