May 15, 2010
When my heart let passion deject all wandering emotions,
low seas boiled.

I cast cliffs to the morning,
and skipped mountains late into the night.

A stone quivered at my shadow's touch.
My pain pelted without a censor.
Our sun-lit ground caressed only by a phantom.

My self-reverence defied upon the bitter image of our battlegrounds.

With the likeness of torture,
you've taken my sleep.
Only awake did I remember the tone of the words that would go to me.

The words you whispered when you crowned me your king.
But not of my own world,
only what you left me.

A King of Nothing.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback