Darkness crept through the floors of the castle
On the day that Her Highness slit the throat of her king
The skies mourned with her as if they've been told
That the demons of hell were not after the gold.
Awaken by the rays of the sun she was
To find Her king laid before her very eyes,
Just an empty chamber drowned in his own blood
Whose soul was gone, and was cold as ice.
"I loved you, my dear." she whispered to his ear,
And so did he, at least that she knows.
But the difference was that he loved himself more
So much so that he failed to keep her close.
Because the truth was that to him she was a prop, a material, a prize
Of a great powerful being that he once wished to become.
And when there came a time to choose between power and love,
He chose power over the life that was to come.
YOU ARE READING
Cauldron of anxiety and fears
Non-FictionPreviously the Cauldron of anxiety and fears. Instead of a rubbish bin for all of my rants and despair, I figured I'd make this a collection of random things I made trying to overpower my inner demons. So yeah, basically still a rubbish bin.
