Shorts and Poetry

7.

I have an aspect of time 'round my neck.

It's a rope spun of memories.

I will choke should I choose to reject,

A step off this arc of victory.

I'm oppose with no way out.

They steal my name to for their throne.

For my friends I can no longer shout.

Trapped in this gilded cage alone.

Now, how could I have dragged them here?

They lay in piles at my feet.

Defeated and lifeless, I'm to blame.

And I'm chained to the throne, crowned King.

I have a choice in this life to change;

I can abandon myself to swing.

This rope spun of the past is an escape.

If I fall, I give a chance to be saved.