the sound of the cool crisp crunch of an autumn apple,
falls on deaf ears,
the rough and ragged wind carried it away

the lone knight battles himself,
engulfed in hatred for the throne,
his damsel is distant,
the odyssey to she is treacherous,
he must beat the man within,
or else she’ll be the one,
without,
him.

the pinpoint precision of the guessing girl,
strikes the unknown part of his heart,
not confused,
but shocked,
that his heart was brought up,
not knocked.

everyone will love you and leave you,
use you and abuse you,
haze, tease, and misuse you,
act like they don’t know you, change up,
switch like a pitch and i’m the blindfolded batter,
and i’m getting used to it now
strike three,
i’m out,
i didn’t even wanna be in anyway.

the bird hums a free song from within the cage,
free from the shackles of its own blue chested body,
free from the turquoise terror in its temple,
free from the everlasting upcoming winter,
unable to migrate,
if only