Pathetic was demeanour,
pitiful to see,
holding onto victimhood,
refusing to be me.
Lamentable the moaning,
inadequate the mind,
wretched was my state;
reason left behind.
Plaintive were my cries,
feeble was my heart,
paltry was all comfort;
hope was torn apart.
Harrowing the moments,
poignant and forlorn,
grieving in my sorrow;
dreams forever yawn.
Righteous was my feeling,
moral and profound,
principled my keening;
ethical my ground.
Rightful were my cries,
allowable my pain,
acceptable my raging;
noble was my gain.
Until the angels cautioned,
sedate in their appeals,
gentle, calm and soothing;
tranquil could I feel.
And in that place of reason,
where dignity did live,
I could summon memory,
remember how to give.
Shaking off the mantle,
of my victimhood,
grace did settle quietly;
forgive you, I then could.
This was beautiful. Perfectly describes the stages.
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