Joan

And how brave I am, how
Sound, and true, to carry this
New burden placed outwith my
Willed control. I am stoic in my
Soul's state to yield to wound,
To bend not break, and in the
Face of terror, blanch and stand
With gritted teeth and
Hope the horror
Will withdraw
And I can breathe in gratitude
And live as whole and one again
The way I was the
Day before division came.

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