I am suffocating in a hazy fog in the heavens of make-believe 

Where there are only words; 

No feelings, no emotions;

It’s torturing me.

Am I the naive damsel who is afraid of a life of monsters that

devour the devoted?

The devil doesn’t care, as long as he disarms the chosen.

I’ve lost this game to him before;

Lost precious years.

So I’m sent a knight in shining armor,

to be rescued.

Why is my angel of redemption the one who is unavailable?

Who is more fascinated by the chase but not the girl.

A master of deception hidden by the blazing metal,

Who can tell his lover that he can’t love her because

the world is too hard to handle.

A knight who sees a pretty tavern wench with healing scars.

Pink markings of tainted flesh that only ever

make the monsters hungry.



I am grateful for the constant development in understanding acceptance. ❤

5 responses »

  1. Thanks for stopping by to “like” my post. It gave me chance to read your poetry. I like the devil, damsel and knight in this one. What a triad. But what I like best about your website is your daily gratitude note. How nice a reminder. Alice

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