She's been land-mined. Down the sinkhole through the airy tunnel.
And punched up with all kinds of demons. She can't speak with the weight
on her chest and who blames her for her quietness. She blinks down at me.
Nothing more needs to be said. Only that she's now a study in humility.
In keeping her mind open and her lips shut. She will have no retainder.
He's asking her not to fight. Not so that she is weak, but that she
can't afford it any longer. She's young, but it doesn't matter, when you've
got to stop fighting those who favor you rather than your opposition.