Wounds that do heal (Part 2)

Find Wounds that won’t heal (Part 1) here.


A labyrinth of sorts, asking for a peek,

Such was her beauty― candid, yet, meek

Her luminescent orbs,

The windows to her deceiving soul,

All that glitters, couldn’t all be gold.


The boy’s cruel savior had a daemon,

Stark to her hazel eyes

One that knew of carmine shores,

One that would lead to the Crown’s demise


The daemon walked at dusk,

Along the carmine shores,

Looking for a man

To do the morbid chore


Soon a Cahill was found, blessed by a witch,

He lived up to his name,

Brought his own hue of gold

To the game of the rich.


The Cahill was morose, he stole the crown,

Shattered it to pieces,

And refused to mourn

The daemon held hands,

With the queen,

Led her along the crimson shores,

Towards the deep

The yang returned, to the kingdom of gold,

While the yin dragged her deeper into the cold


The sun soon shone on the Kingdom’s bruises,

To forever heal, and to bring more muses

And while the painter’s brush dabbled more,

A picture was born, of reminiscent shores


Image Source: DeviantArt




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