I am put away in the brown cupboard,
Like a brave Greek soldier.
Those battles with love and
Longing: I'm there.
This constant stillness though;
This is a death.
I wait with my martyred eyes
Clutching at my leaders tiny pinky.
I'll never let go.
I am yours.
Till the death of me.

I have sawdust in my
Pockets.
That is enough for this
Bewildered soldier.

What is now and what was are
Irreconcilable to me now.
I am your brave Greek soldier.
Play with my when you need.
Kiss me when you're lonely.
**** me when the moon disappears
From your Vantage point.

Over time though, my chiseled Greek
Body will rust.
It to will become black
And then,
Only then,
Will you realize those brave grunts
A brave soldier has mastery of weren't cries of bravery, but of black Pain.

"This hurts" I'll say.
"I thought you loved me" you'll reply.
My queen, my leaders, my killer.

These scars are your scars.
This blood is your land.
Conquer everything in sight,
Except my heart.
That died a long time ago
In that old brown cupboard of yours.