You will not steal my joy

You will not steal my joy.

I will walk away like a boss, and I will leave you behind.

I won't be looking back.

You may bow me down with sorrow now. You may be allowed to pursue me and threaten me and fire at me right now, but that is now. That is not how this ends.

You may bruise me now, and my heart may bleed now, but in the end, I will run from you.

It will start as a walk, but you will soon be blinded by the dust I kick away from me as I break into a jog, and then into a run.

As my legs push the limits of their speed and strength, the blood from my wounds will start running clear. My bruises will be faded by the sun. The circles under my eyes will be stains no longer as my tears turn to joy.

My hair, wild in the wind of my Promised Land, will be tamed by the breeze that is so strong in my ears that it drowns the memory of your voice away.

What you did to me will be gone. Forever. And I will take my joy.

You will not steal my joy.

I am going to run, all residue from your attacks will fall off of me easily, and I will have my joy.