My heart is a fortress:
Safeguarded by the walls of tradition
Protected by the towers of long-standing fears
and horror-filled legends.
My watchmen are demons;
Angels who once, sworn to protection,
Have now taken over and filled my hallways with shackles and bolts.
“Guard your heart…”
There are days I lie awake and ask myself
if this is what they meant.
My heart is a fortress: cold, intimidating.
Concealed by the shrubbery of knowledge;
ensconced in the forest of academics
Books and study.
Study: learn, acquire, “your only duty”.
You are not a dragon:
they are loud, fierce, mighty.
You are the summer breeze.
Penetrating all my castle walls, filing them with ideals
Thoughts, hope, happiness
Love.
You are not a wonder;
you are the axis of the universe.
Everything draws me to you
Like two magnets I was pulled.
I should have known my walls were good for me
That my cold shackles were for my safety
But I let you in
And I payed dearly.
Now everything is crumbling,
Every hallway filled with the dead leaves
your summer breeze brought to die
within my walls and accompany my sorrow.
All is brittle
All is cold
All is gone
So I close the gates; I rebuild my walls. I clean the leaves and
I
start
over
again.
