There is indeed pain and to continue challenging the old in the wake of what is to be new will not remove its questioning.

I see its discourse like a voice strong enough to scatter the sand/ each grain a proclamation heard by every variance tuned to the emotional estate/ a platform we have braved and marked well.

I will be hurt again, I will find pain anew, however it is my past I will return too. I remember well how each sand pierced my flesh and stung my face, and if I behaved any differently it would be a mask added in haste.

I closed such proceedings ahead of me, a door I no longer need. I will shower in the grit of past suffering and return each voice the response I heed.

We are resonate this place of grief/ let us adjudicate all our strength. We will smile throughout the discord/ because adjacent to our smile is our holocaust.

We have bore its scarring many times. If we can stare down that type of storm/ it may be a hard expression scratched into our teeth/ but it is one we earned, and if there is a place I must visit, there are happier times ahead of course, but we shall not allow our past dealings to interrupt their proceedings.

I will struggle hard to return to the smile behind the storms I have already braved.