The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

my armies are dead
foul ghouls
black bloodshed
my land? it’s ill
all dark, no harvest, so many mouths to fill

the sickness has spread
everywhere
especially inside my head

and all i can do
to sit on my throne
a tint of royal blue

my servants are frozen in time, you see
they’re my ghosts
my lovely, little parody

it’s cold within these walls, you see
you better keep warm
they might eat you alive, these walls
consider yourself warned

and if you wonder
after all this time
why i’m still here
claiming what’s mine

i dreamed this to be, you see
this kingdom is my fantasy
my youngest wish and sweetest sigh
it’s not so easy
letting go
waving goodbye

and as my castle starts collapsing
and the rubble begins to fall
i start to ponder
start to wonder
what if this all
wasn’t just a dream, the exception to the rule
dreamed up by me
a lousy, unworthy fool
who just wanted to be queen
of the kingdom inside my head
just this one time
more alive
than dead

The way she smiles as she walks,
The way she jokes when she talks.
The serious expression her face takes on,
The way her eyes are never drawn.
The feeling when she hugs me to her chest,
And all my problems go to rest.
The nickname that she gave to me,
Always spoken so playfully.
The slight wrinkles on her forehead,
From life's problems that she was too early exposed.
This is the girl that I love,
A fighter,
A survivor,
A warrior.
Though we will never be together,
My love for her will never falter.