In days gone by, their hearts were taught through fear.
It was a cruel companion as they grew.
Loud cries were silent with no one to hear.
Children with shaken spirits then withdrew.
Tormented journeys on paths lined in pain,
their bleeding hearts remain hidden from view,
hanging from necks and backs, kept on a chain,
forged with each fiery blow the beater threw.
Release from terrors, sleeping or awake,
becomes a hopeless dream which seems untrue.
The healing enters slowly when they make
the meaning of every tear a clue.
The torment fades… His perfect love makes new,
with discovery of the self that's true.
