Time will translate this weakness into strength;
One day even the scars will be faded like old ink on old parchment;
The mind’s eye will soon see only blurred memories,
Memories relieved of their intensity, their stimulus,
Memories robbed of their sting, their power to hurt.
The sun will conquer every lonely, dark night;
The storm will die, the sky will clear.
Pain will tire of rearing its head, its fangs will not pierce, will not kill;
It’s strangling hold will break, it will be defeated in its purpose.
Broken hearts will mend, broken people will be made whole.
One day in time, we will be set free.