Ok, this is the first poem I have ever posted on-line.
It's from Willow's point of view as she gives up magic and thinks of Tara.
A Battle Won
Way down in a crevice of my mind, lays a monster half asleep.
A fossil of my childhood, a creature of the deep.
It has a predilection for old customs and beliefs.
It likes to gnaw deep in my soul with neither respite nor relief.
It lurks beneath the shadows, calling itself the shadow king.
It overwhelms my consciousness and undermines my being.
My tenuous grip on sanity is quickly fading fast.
I will not give up this fight but I feel I cannot last.
How do I fight a cancer that has already begun ?
I cannot use a knife or spear or even a big gun.
The answer to my question lies within my serendipity.
The memory of you smile and love can always set me free.
The precious relics of our memories that I thought I did not need will help me fight this creature with all its insatiable needs.