And Time It Shall Valor On Poem by James Darwin Smith II

In her eyes, defeat
Tried hard to be loved
So many times
Traveled afar
Searching for purpose
Always being left behind


Inside her mind
Play residuals of trust
Cruel reminders
That led her astray
In a sad state of disillusion


And that heart, still beautiful
Played and played and played
Tested well beyond its limits
Only to be turned into shrapnel
Destroyed, obliterated
Left in the garbage of yesterday's memory


Yet, her particular nature
Was cursed by her own exterior viewing
Never dug deep to find answers
Ignoring her gut's intuition
Only find out it was all too late
As love has always done her in


Those visions of hers
Never could see the true beauty of things
Blinded by such disregard
As each soul that haunted her
Haunted every dream
Till she would finally submit
To the next insidious intention
Awaiting ever so vigorously
Deviously in the line of deceit


Still, I know she means well
Those intentions full of light


Yet, there never seems to be an escape
For the kind of pride
She lets destroy her
From shallow within


Another victim of society's lies
Mental state in full decay


Still, I know she has a huge heart
Just that I worry
That the cancer of love will do her in


Like so many
When will she break away from defeat?


Her soul is captured
Locked inside the confines of her own imprisonment
A personal prison created by the many pains
She has received by helping the dishonorable guilty win


Someday I hope she escapes
Flies up high and shines away
Becoming the star she needs to be
Shooting beyond her limited reign


She is the Queen of her own destiny
Never once she needed a King


For she was always her own
Ruling the kingdom of beauty, from within


I sure hope she finds her way. For good
So there will never be an end


May those peeks peak into glory
Climbing beyond defeat
Atop victory beyond all comprehension


Nonetheless, she is a winner no matter what


When she conquers each metaphor
Then and only then she will finally find true love


Her spirit waits
To be loved
Blessed on her own accord


And time it shall valor on