l am a story that dried barrels of ink rewriting an introduction.

My narration is a repetition of pain caved on stone resistant to erosive forces corroding its depth..
I am a beautiful construction of undecipherable abstract art intertwined with complicated designs of pain,
you see as talented..
My foundation is deeply reinforced with cement and steal, which survived centuries.
Within am broken and weak from the rust creeping on my homely heart that once habited love...

The chains on my wrist are drill bits,
cutting pipelines to waste my strength that glamorize your tethers with a crimson color.
I see contentment awash on your face at my weakening,
hoping to hear my silent mumbling like a melodious ditty that heralds a beautiful dawn that fuel your cheer...

I fight the overpowering edge to succumb to defeat,
struggling vocals of memorized mantras escaping cracked lips
from a subconscious memory that tirelessly crank the wells of a deep past to replenish resolution of survival strength.

My mind is a temple with saints in robes heralding everlasting love,
yet withdrawn to secret doors of penance facing nemesis of...