When they came to her house,
She nodded at the news,
showing no emotion.
For how could she?
She was the daughter of a general of War,
A widowed man.
Who saw nothing but his daughter’s features in her
Even as she turned sixteen, he only saw the fragile child,
crying for mother’s milk.
He kept her close,
but when duty called,
he left.
Taking a locket with a chain of gold,
her picture on the inside.
He kissed her forehead as he
left, the war general sad.
He was told to guard the prisoners
Who whispered to him mad lies
They told him they held her captive
And she would surely die.
Months of listening to the darkness
Had made the general weary.
Something made him open the gate,
and as shadows overtook him,
the locket fell to the floor.
He tried to fight, if for her sake.
But was lost.
Now she sat,
the last one in the house
curled up with hands gripped around the picture frame
that shattered on the floor
As the nation fell because of her father’s crimes
She followed him to where he learned to reside
watching him like the wind
crime after crime.
Until one orphan girl
Found the locket and showed him,
as he lunged to kill her friend.
Blood dripped from his sabor,
and the little girl pressed the locket forward.
The General let out a scream
Agony and sorrow
And hid himself away.
Mother Nature,
the daughter, floated over to him.
As the caravan left.
Her honey gold eye’s met him.
Indulgently she folded her hands over his shoulders.
Sharing his sorrow.
Of The Nightmare King.
