Out of sight, out of mind.
Once she has left your vision,
she ceases to exist.
Memories of her fade quickly
as she was quiet
and otherwise unnoticeable.
She wasn't always this way.
What was once a kind,
and trusting individual
faded with every blow thrown at her
like an unprotected innocent wandering onto a battlefield.
Armour wasn't worn
as in the past
she never needed it.
But once the first blow hit her unexpecting chest,
the pain was not felt on the surface
but instead echoed far deeper into her heart's chambers.
As if the first blow wasn't enough
more and more came.
Sometimes disguised as an ally,
a hand would reach out for her
only to strike her with a venom coated blade.
This ongoing battle cloaked her in danger.
Anyone brave enough to come near
would suffer the consequences;
either by her enemies' hand,
or her own.
Trust faded quickly,
and happiness soon followed.
She sacrificed her values
to escape the onslaught of weaponry,
the blades of which had only become sharper over time.
With memories haunted by old wounds
and scars that would never heal,
she forged a new life
in a village far from home.
There lived kindness,
And she lived;
No, she thrived.