“Not Mad, Just Feeling”

At sixteen winters, the dragons came— Anxiety with its tales of doom, Melancholy casting spells of gloom. For years I wandered, unnamed, alone, Believing no knight could claim the throne. But lo! I found the wizard's scrolls, The healing arts that mend our souls. Now armored in the morning's peace, With faithful hound and art's release, I ride—not cured, but fiercely whole. To feel is not to lose control. These dragons taught me what I know: The bravest hearts feel every blow.