For When You’re Too Tired to Fight

This poem is for the ones who feel like they’ve lost the war before even drawing their sword. For the days when your mind is exhausted, and your heart feels like it’s been locked away in a tower of your own making. Maybe you’ve been refusing your own strength, your own worth, not because you don’t deserve it, but because the weight of the past makes it hard to believe.

Avalon isn’t just a myth. It’s the moment you realize that no magic, no herb, no prayer, no outside force can heal what you won’t let yourself claim. The chains? You hold the key. The throne? It’s been yours all along.

This poem is a reminder "The only thing stronger than fear is the choice to rise anyway."

The Isle of Avalon

A heart locked away, beating faint and low,

Refusing a crown of gold and glow.

No water, no fire, no dawn’s first light,

Can heal the one who denies their right.

You’ll climb the cliff, you’ll brave the tide,

But a heart in chains stays trapped inside.

Avalon’s herbs, Avalon’s thorn,

Won’t mend the hand that tore its own throne.

The greatest foe on any field,

Isn’t the sword, it’s the fear we yield.

A king who rejects his sovereign name,

Will live a servant all the same.

But if you wake, if you choose to rise,

Hear the blood-voice roar in your skies.

This isle burns, this hill runs bright,

Throwing wide the door to your rightful light.

Even when every part of you wants to retreat, even when the path ahead feels impossible your "rightful light" isn’t some distant dream. It’s waiting for you to stop denying it exists.

So if you’re tired, rest. But don’t you dare give up. The door isn’t just open, it’s been thrown wide. Step through.