Post-Tramatic Stress Disorder

The battle rages on,

Another sunrise.

Another sunset.

Endless war consumes her,

A child wise beyond her years.

No sword or shield in sight,

However could she fight?

The beast is on the horizon,

looming out of sight.

The monster is coming closer,

screaming in delight.

She arms herself with words,

the only things around.

The beast calls out,

in the darkness.

"Why" she wonders,

Couldn't I have faced the Jabberwocky

Armed with sword and shield?

The monster is quite vocal,

chanting in the mind.

A fate she must endure

For is she wavers,

If she quavers,

She would be undone. 

Armed with only words

She learns how to paint white roses

RED.