the nights were bright
the days were dark
moonlight complimented
sunlight dimmed.
oh, what a cruel time!
for all the people in this world
but his betrothed
could never not feel more loved.
wearing his colours, she entered the court
making the faces of people contort
he smiled on seeing his lover
while sitting on the throne he desired.
wearing his colours was akin to wearing his pride
he couldn't hide his smile on seeing his bride
escaped, all those words so snide
only he knew, deep down he cried.
for once in his lifetime, he felt alive
seeing his reflection in her
ignoring all the scars on her body
that he gave.
the pain in their eyes, both bore
yet they couldn't help falling in love even more
enjoying the pain
hating the throne.
had she been there before the throne
had he been lusting her before the throne
this all would've never happened
the fall would've never occurred.
giving him the life he deserved
wearing his colours that deserved to be worn
no more weeping, no more did he mourn
after she saved him when he was about to drown.
hands tied, mouth sewn
eyes blurred, mind blown
stuck in his own illusions
it was time to be pruned.
YOU ARE READING
tears on my scars.
Poetrypoetry from the times when i feel dead and alive. i hear the shadows whispering, i feel the inaudible trembling, unwilling to believe, too true to disbelief. -aish
