Again, she woke from a dream,
Age'd terror engulfed her mind,
Reminders of pain from a distant past -
Relics of a past wanton with fear;
Although a meek child she would seem.
Told to forgive the unforgivable,
She silently weeps without sobbing,
Cries-out without raising her voice;
She's faced the fiend from the Stygian Pit.
But hatred is not with her!
Cloaked in the warmth of heaven's device,
Shedding love on all she tends,
Mocking the creed of enmity,
Her days roll on without a stir.
JT Hicks
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