Seven Years

the mirror casts a reflection
of a stranger.
the stranger smirks
snidely.

throwing his head back to laugh,
skin marked with faded scars.
faded scars from a previous life,
a life of battle.

the stranger disappears and
panic remains.
this reflection bears no scars,
nor is it bruised or battle-worn.

though worn down, the reflection,
has hardly been challenged.
not for sake of being intimidating,
but for avoiding conflict.

Midnight tolls
steadfast oak

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