poetry

forged…

wandering around a dynasty. where so many wear their crowns, proudly for all to see. hanging from the stars, i was once exiled from. into a darkness, where i only had two choices. i could grow cold, within the absence of light. or i could grow, where the sun never shines. and become, my own beacon of hope. so as you pass me by, laugh if you must. for my crown, isn’t for the eyes to see. like these scars, shining like metals from my eyes. but my crown was forged, where souls go to die. and hearts never cry. my crown is, my heart and soul… that darkness, could never hold.
-joshua ryan stewart

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