A warrior?

I am not a warrior.

And yet I am.

I just want to live my life peacefully.

Yet, I cannot ignore what I know.

In my heart I hear their cries,
the cries of the ones still trapped,
locked in the chains of abuse.

How can I not fight for them at least on some level?

My survival, my struggle, my victories,
in some small way,
help to tear down the walls of abuse they have raised up.

I am proof one can survive and even thrive.
And there are many like me,
a small army fighting for truth and freedom.

We are trying to pave the way for others to be pulled out of that darkness.

So living my life, in and of itself, makes me a warrior.
Every time I share the truth, I am a warrior.
Every dollar I spend on organizations rescuing those enslaved, makes me a warrior.

I will continue to speak
for those who have no voice,
for those being tortured,
used for organ and adrenochrome harvesting,
filmed in pornography,
all to satisfy the greed and sick lusts of
demonic evil embodied in people.

I bear the scars.
I have wounds no one should have to have.
How can I remain silent while others are getting those same wounds?

NO! Until every last one is rescued and every trafficker is jailed,
I am thrust into the role of a warrior.
I have no choice.
I am driven out of gratitude for having been rescued myself.

A warrior?
Yes. I can be nothing less.

Invisible — January 6, 2011


Walking the streets
am I even seen?
A bit of a smile here,
a tentative nod there,
Even a welcoming greeting.
but who’s it really for?

Do they see the little girl
who wishes for a daddy’s love?
Or the young boy
who longs for a real mama?
Do they see the young teen
who’s been filmed and used time and again,
the one who would really like
to find true love?

Different hearts with one face,
which one do they see?
The hearts? The face? Both?
Most don’t look beyond the face.
They don’t want to see below the surface
or be bothered with what’s in the heart.

They do not see the invisible scars
that wind throughout the mind.
They are unaware of the pain behind the eyes
so closely guarded for fear of rejection.
They only see bits of “odd” behaviours
things that don’t quite seem to fit.

Eccentricities? No, she’s too young for that,
but maybe she’s getting an early start?
“Moodiness”? Sudden changes of emotion?
Well, she is a woman, after all!
Most, though, won’t even see those things
for they are too busy to even look.

Invisible she is.
Invisible she’ll stay.
someone is willing to look beneath
the surface of the external
to the hurting wounded
that lie in her heart.

© January 6, 2011

As I Lay Me Down to Sleep — June 26, 2010

As I Lay Me Down to Sleep

As I lay me down to sleep
flashbacks in the mind release.
Pushing forward, images come
as I fight to not come undone.
My body tenses; I cannot breathe,
overwhelmed by what I “see”.
Morphing one image into another,
with silent screams of “no” in my head,
I try to be open to history’s unveiling,
fighting the urge to let the mists return.
But slowly it slips away from me again.
And in the morning I awake
with a new reality like a distant dream.
Is anything ever what it seems?


© June 28, 2010

The Cost of Reality – April 12, 2009

The Cost of Reality

I reach out my hand.
Can you even begin to see
or understand
how very hard it is for me
to be in your world?

Can you sense the shaking
and trembling inside
as I wonder when and how
I am going to stumble?
When I will say or do
something that
makes me look stupid?
When my amnesia and
abuse effected mind will
trip me up?

Do you realize how hard it is
for me to try and look
To try and look as if I am
comfortable and OK
in your world?

Are you aware that I am not even
really IN your world?
That I struggle in a world
all my own?

Do you know how hard it is
to trust
that you are really
what I see?
That there is not something
else going on?

Do you have any idea
how much energy it takes
to be bravely hopeful
and always vigilant?
To wonder if
your friendship
is the “real deal”
or just another setup?
To be ever watchful
for the cue
that lets me know
that you might be
betraying me?
Or that your actions and words
are only out of
some sense
of duty?

Do you know how much
feeling the way I do?
How much I HATE
knowing that I will always be
suspicious…even if only

Do you understand the
to me when I persist in trying to
trust you?
When I persist in trying to
let you in?
Do you know how much my
not walking away says
about how much I
your friendship?
I hope you do.


©April 12, 2009

Standing Free – February 28, 2009

Standing Free

Seize the day!
Grab the moment!
We haven’t got time to spare!

We’ve got to run
as fast as we can
like a frightened little hare.

They want to keep us
always afraid
with never a chance for peace.

Well, the jokes on them
for we’ll not stay
where heartaches never cease!

“Ha,” I say.
Although they try,
they cannot hold us here.

For we refuse
to live their ways
and stay in constant fear.

We will stand free
for this I know:
we were never really theirs.

For we gave our heart
when we were young
to the One eternally there.


© February 28, 2009

Why? — August 26, 2008


I fall on the floor.
Do you even see what you’ve done to me?
Do you even care how my soul is laid bare
and my heart is bound by the cords you wound
around my core as you declared war…
on me?

Knocking on the door,
he calls to me to set me free.
But I cannot hear because your fear
has woven its thread all through my head.
So my ability to trust has turned to rust…
can’t you see?

I hate what you’ve done.
Throwing me down, you forbade my frown.
Using me up, you made me sup
of your wickedness, bestowing sickness
into my heart never more to part.
Why did you?

I want to run.
You broke my mind so I cannot find
myself anymore. There is no shore,
no boundary there. I cannot share.
I’m locked inside where I must hide.
Want your due?

I hate to hate.
Yet I wonder with heart torn asunder
if I would, if I could,
oh, my God, plant you in sod!
I guess it’s good I do what I should.
You ever cry?

I know of late
my mind is hazy, and feeling crazy.
Hope is draining. Grief is gaining.
My heart’s breaking. My body’s quaking.
You’re in my head and in my bed.
Say goodbye!!!

August 26, 2008

Waves of Pain — January 24, 2007

Waves of Pain

Wave upon wave of pain
Beat against my heart
Pounding and pounding
As if to rend it apart

I gasp and I shudder
I moan and I rock
Like a boat without rudder
Nor mooring nor dock

Beset in a storm
With the wind and rain
Coming against me
Is all in vain?

I yearn for an anchor
To grab hold of to steady
This ship of my healing
Until I am ready

To face what it is
That makes my heart pound
As I try to look at
Things that astound

No one can see it
Nor can they feel
The intensity of pain
That causes me to reel

Like a drunken sailor
On a wave driven ship
Tossed to and fro
And ill-equipped

To handle life’s challenges
In a steady way
Living in yesterday
Along with today

But I know a Captain
With skills so fair
He takes on the Wheel
And He’ll get me there

He will take me
Upon the high seas
Away from this storm
With its miseries

January 24, 2007 ©

Out of the Ashes — October 7, 2005

Out of the Ashes

Out of the ashes she rises,
Determined to win, not to die.
Her life’s been stolen from her
Her childhood’s a mist, a sigh.

Her memories are veiled in fog,
Thick…and swirling…and gray.
Will light ever pierce the darkness?
Will she ever remember the way…

That her sister smiled and laughed
As they chased the hours away,
Singing and dancing and playing,
Their bodies starting to sway

To the rhythms of the drumbeat
As the chanting swelled so loud
And their hearts beat ever faster
Vainly trying to drown it all out?

But no! Those things are hiding
In the dark recesses of her mind,
Closed off…and covered up,
Like skeletons and gold in a mine

Long ago buried by thieving pirates
Trying to cover their evil deeds.
All she has now are glimpses
And flashes…like tiny seeds.

But seeds will sprout
And seeds will grow
And someday the memories will come.
Her mind will open
And she will know
The things to which they made her succumb.

There is evil and wickedness buried inside,
Awful deeds from which to hide.
But deeds do not a person make.
Our Lord came, her soul to take

Away from those who would enslave
Her body, soul and spirit.
They have no power any more.
Their claims are of no merit.

Although the memories
May locked in darkness be,
Her spirit, soul and body
Have now been set free.

20051007 copyright

On the Altar — April 23, 2005c

On the Altar

On the altar stone so cold
Lay the child all alone.
Bare of skin she naked lies
As they secure her with magic ties.

Across her stomach
Across her chest
Across her legs
Her arms and neck.

Invisible are they
And out of sight
But securely they hold
And very tight.

Incantations fill the air.
Fight, fight, if you dare.
But no – the ties now hold her tight
Strong as chains – dark as night.

Rama, rama eli lan
Rama, rama pontis can
What be the words – what do they speak?

In Y’shua’s name I break the curse.
In Y’shua’s name I cancel the program.
In Y’shua’s name the track will fail.
In Y’shua’s name I refuse the mail
That’s sent on wings of demons
It flies, but there’s a wall
between it and me.
In Y’shua’s name there’s failed delivery.

I am free
No more am I theirs
A slave set free
No more to be shared.

©April 23, 200511:30 p.m.

The Seasons of Time — April 22, 2005

The Seasons of Time

The seasons of time pass through
our mind
Flowing like so many rivers
of pictures
The feelings fly –
soaring through our hearts
Bringing the stabs with them.

We long to be free
To soar
To fly
On wings of healing
and angel lullabies
To be touched deep within
and freed from the sin
Of those who have hated us
abused us
or worse –
looked on in indifference
Allowing our cries
To fall on deaf ears
and hearts of stone
Leaving us with our abusers
All alone.

But You were there!
Longing to stop it.
Did You ever regret free will, O Lord?
Did You ever regret the freedom You gave?
To choose the bad along with the good?
To chose evil over right?
Curses over blessings?

I wonder
How I wonder

If, while You saw the hurt
and the pain
Did you regret making mankind?

©April 22, 2005

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