The Monster's Demise
How does one destroy what gnaws at the marrow? Not with stones hurled, but with a heart soaked in honey, each whisper a mote of hope tossed into the abyss. Speak gentle incantations, weave a web of soft syllables

Become the fierce and forgiving light.
In each fragmented vessel, the shadow of a soul. Gather the pieces like a mother culling thorns from a child's palm; darkness retracts, yielding

to a heart stitched back together. Confront the beast with a mirror and see it wear your face, those constellation eyes, hold tight to the ground, crafting peace from fury.

In the silence, listen: the monster crumbles, and your true self brightens.
© Tiger64X2