Slow Burn: A Poetry Collection

Night Terrors Ver. II

His two halves woke up screaming

They remembered distinctly; hunger

The left hand was, a tomb

and

The right hand was, a friend

The eye-some girl rested

with her back to the stone

and gold across her breast

He loved her there

for the first time;

Silent.

Obedient.

With a grave mouth, he faltered

and touched her amber bones.

His people, fair in their sufferings

never saw how his knife smiled in

every light.

It tainted his crown

to have his name

in their mouths and their

slander at his door

Still, he loved them

and none so much

as her

Had she honored his crown,

her breast would be bare

and his conscience, clear

Had her suitors yielded,

their funerals would be unattended

and their caskets empty

With a sword at the left hand

and a noose at his right

he loved them.

With winter in his eyes

and gold amidst his brow

he loved them

His amber corpse

called him revenge;

he loved them

with teeth among his lips and

pleasure in his patience

he loved them

And still his puckered skin, sour from

'I told you so's'

and fantastically false hope;

hung itself, sick from the rabid

belief that it's master

could fly