Gentle, yet, powerful herbs

Ground to heal these wounds

That was held within the memories

sealed away inside this crystal prism prison.

Smooth, yet, sharp edges

Cut through these feelings

As memories of pain

Begin to outgrow this prism.

In the end,

There’s nothing to hold back

The pain held within.

Even with a lock,

It holds no purpose,

For over time

It will only wear and tear down to a fine bit of dust

And when this pain is freed

As it soars through wreaking of tears

A new prism is formed.

Formed through the triumph of hard work and strength

To hold back this pain so that once again,

There are peace and tranquility.