From the Demons...In the End, We Can't Win

Let's make sure, she's in pain
That she always has something
That can rob her of sanity giving sleep.

Let's also be sure her heart aches,
Her stomach quakes,
That she feels alone and burdened.

Let's ensure she second guesses
Every decision she's ever made...
Every yes, every no, every hesitation.

Let's make sure she's exhausted
And that when she does need,
The person she hesitantly reaches out to is away,
If even momentarily.

Let's make sure we beat her down,
Stall her will,
And preoccupy her mind with every possible "could go wrong."

Let's climb on her shoulders,
Tie weights to her journey,
And tie one hand behind the other.

Only we know,
In the end,
We can't win.

Her will moves her forward
Even when she doesn't know what
She, herself is capable of.

Her so-called waning faith will carry her through to the faint light in the distance.

Her fight is stronger than we know.

So torment, yes we can,
Defeat her...alas...no.