Wounds that won’t heal

It was a heavy-handed helping,

He was sure;

One of many more to come,

Nevertheless, he was still adored


What was it like? To live? To breathe?

The world’s dreams chained off

And its allusions slowly put to sleep


Cuts adorned his skin,

Proof of the monsters inside

Governed by the ruthless

Barbarians outside


He called the Eagles, on the coats of arms,

He called the merry that swore by swans

The  Falcons, too, arrived, to resuscitate the Queen

But the smoke and mirror play was only his to keep


She rose from the auburn seafoam,

Regretfully impaired,

Her crown held the power of the Yin and Yang


For, what he evaded, she soon became,

Another monster that held the chains.


Find Wounds that do heal (Part 2) here.


Image Source: Annika Banko

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