I've always wanted to be
Awakened.
Maybe even by a
Knight in shining armor or a
Handsome Prince in disguise.
But here I am,
Sleeping,
Curled around
My bruised and bleeding soul.
The tower walls
Are impossibly high
Carefully built by
My own broken hands
So that
No adventurer, however brave
No knight, however bold
No prince, however cunning
Can scale the thorn cover heights
And wake me.
My breath,
Slow and even.
My heart,
Scarred and beaten.
My soul,
Locked and sleeping.
Oh,
Slumber on
Sweet sweet, sleeper,
For no one will
Wake you when
Life
Is over.