The Yielding Fighter

In the shadows of my fractured mind,

A war persists, chaos intertwined.

Demons rise, their whispers sting,

Feeding the fears to which they cling.

They chant of guilt, of endless shame,

Fanning the fire, calling my name.

But this soul, though bruised and worn,

Refused to fall, refused to mourn.

Through sleepless nights and haunted days,

The war persists, in countless ways.

Each scar a mark, each tear a proof,

Of battles fought beneath no roof.

“Judge me not!” I cry to the air,

“I’m more than the wreckage I bear.

I won’t submit to a jury’s decree,

No twelve will ever define me.”

The toll is high, the end feels near,

The demons chant, their voices clear.

Exhaustion wins where courage fades,

And I find peace in twilight’s shades.

Let them scorn, let stones be thrown,

For I have braved storms all my own.

This was my fight, my will, my art,

I fought till the stillness claimed my heart.