When the wounds are healed
Doesn't mean the trauma's concealed
Underneath the throbbing pulses
Lies a heart afraid to trust again.

Where the stifled sighs
Betray a tear vanished from sight
Therein firmness takes root
Built upon calloused hands and boots.

In the cacophony of beats
Stands a person who does not accept defeats
The torment of defiance 
Is paid in full by silence.

Wielding the only weapon known to man
Words are swords when used as stance
Conforming to what instincts believe
Words hold the power to ecstasy.