I write this poem for you, one with bitter rhymes of your woes. The stench of despair you wore like armour, ignorance that blinded your naive heart, cowardly condescending to lifes punches without a fight. An essence so frail and feeble, a radiance so demeaning. The immeasurable unwillingness for firmness, embodied by one single being. Easily a waste of breath.
I write this poem for you, one with savouring rhymes of your now sheer will. Took a while, but was rilled in with a firm line of a love so kind. An essence now refined and so well defined, fearlessly determined and undemeaned. Shed skin like fell scales, giving way to a sturdy shell. Breathtakingly reborn.