A Heart of Scars, is proof of internal wars.
All it is full of is multiple closed doors, after a while it's just a list of chores.

Wars being kept hidden and inside, something that someone shouldn't abide.
These wars being battled is against something that doesn't subside.

Those wars not being able to have support, the support of which has life short.
The battle is one that will lose and should abort, but against freewill stay in the ports.

Being kept inside for such a time, does take a toll and eventually will blow.
There is nothing to help me from the hole, and there is not even a glow.
I'm afraid there is nothing that can reach me from my fate. Just let me bow.

I need to accept my fate.
Death will be my mate.
I do not know the date.
I believe you have come too late.

Let me go.
There is nothing new to show.
Just let me take the final blow.
No?

I have a scared heart, I am at war.
There is never enough, the only thing I get is more.
The only thing given to me is beatings, hate, and gore.
I have an obligation to keep my feeling in store.

To keep them from all but my own mind and soul.
For me, survival is my only goal.
I lay awake wondering if it will all come to an end, I sure have been a fool.

I have others to keep me up, and in turn I help them up from a fall.
I feel sometimes like I have something upon my shoulders, like a shawl.

But this is my burdens from years past, I continue to hide, to survive, to last.
But instead they eat from my soul, and they are fast.
My past is something I sometimes wish to forget, but it is vast.

A scared heart at war. With itself. A battle the heart isn't going to win.
It can take control and make them sin, I try to contain them in a bin.
But they place me upon display, I am their puppet on some tin.

I fight against it, even though my win is outnumbered and unfair.
My life is as wild as a wild mare, I feel like I'm battling a bear.
I stand and take the hits, I take my deserved beatings. I sit in my chair.

A scared heart is what occupies my chest. I stand tall with my external vest.
I will take the hits and survive the battle and come out my best.

I will return with a beating heart, one healed with only one scar to prove the fight.
One that will become healed. One that has taken much to the fight, taken might.

I will conquer the fight, this battle. But I thank those who watch the battle
I will raise taller. When you see me go to the battle, I have equaled cattle.
When I have gone to the fight, I will cause a great rattle.

When you see me return, battered and teared, know that inside, beats a perfect heart.

Internally no more a heart of scars, but a heart of former wars.
I have become free of my bars.