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Sep 2013 · 1.7k
Anti-whitewash
Steven Fried Sep 2013
Symmetry faceless or otherwise
colorful or
drab. Equality is sin
struggle is peace with people
Cynically and worldly impossible
No prejudice, no illness
Well prejudice is illness, and humans are death
The propaganda vaccinations donated by our governments daily, monthly, yearly
Not antiestablishment
anti-chikanery
not anti-symmetric
anti-whitewash
Sep 2013 · 342
Flip your Computer
Steven Fried Sep 2013
and tIm-stop
dots-wIt pup
Sep 2013 · 611
Broke and Dogs
Steven Fried Sep 2013
****** hounds
but stop and nod

Scrappers or survivors
a quarter here a quarter there

ears bit neck scratched
a Styrofoam cup

fights won, lost, lamed
an upturned top hat

Defenseless, lonely, sad eyes
a blanket and a stack of newspapers

A fighting dog
or a fighting man, don't walk by.
Sep 2013 · 532
Ocean's Host
Steven Fried Sep 2013
Over the ocean
we rail and scream

Timbers shiver timbers quiver
Groans grate our ears
with the wind whipping and wailing

Not the cold nor the rain
nor icicles on our backs
nor hammers on our limbs

A rusty machine
we churn butter
and churn
our wheels and togs and clogs and gears
turn

So the ship rolls over the ocean
leaps and bounds in between
like a gazelle at home
we the tics, the leeches, and the virus's
who cling to the host
for dear life
Sep 2013 · 1.4k
Loss of Companionship
Steven Fried Sep 2013
No one has picked up for weeks. They are home, but no one has picked up. Not an email returned, nor a text acknowledged. I ****** up. I know. But why won't anyone, anyone answer me...
I can only contemplate so long in a dark room. My sulking is repetitive. I'm guilty. I admit it, and freely so. She died at my house, my party, my birthday, my drink.
Accident's happen. Can't anyone see that? Can't anyone see I'm not a murderer? Can't anyone just UNDERSTAND? All I want is for them to understand. All I've wanted is for someone to say okay, I get it. Is it so hard? I asked god. I've asked every waking moment with every twitch of my being if anyone could understand. I guess I know his answer. I guess silence is another word for no. For you don't deserve it. For ******* for trying. For get off the ground. For move on.
But I can't move on. I can't see over the lip of my hole. I can't move I'm prostrated here bound and gagged… by chains. My words have all escaped me. I can't even speak. I try to splutter a word and nothing happens. I can only think now, and even that is becoming beyond my ability. The disjointedness is enclosing.
I wish i could apologize. Just answer for me to apologize.
No?
No.
Oh well.
Ignorance is bliss, knowledge is power, and insanity is safety
Insanity is my true shelter the true zenith of insight. So I'll slip and I'll fall through the hole into the disease. At least its touch is awaiting; at least I will have warmth.
good morning...?
I'm not suicidal. Actually I'm quite happy, this is fictional. But for anyone out there who feels like this, even people who aren't going through it may have an inkling of understanding.
Sep 2013 · 3.1k
Bowling and depravity
Steven Fried Sep 2013
Bowling *****.
Stepping in and smelling fresh diarrhea and cigarettes
Slide your fingers into the heels of over worn shoes
Then your feet- someone has been here before, hundreds of people have
sit in the solid plastic swivel
step up to the dead rack and pick up a germ infested, god-forsaken ball
bowl terribly and pull your glute
repeat.
Ten frames.
Sep 2013 · 568
The ladies have moved on
Steven Fried Sep 2013
You were with me.
That was true.
It happened; do not deny it.
Don't deny. Don't forget.
Leave it be. Don't touch it.
Put it on a shelf; stand next to it; and then staple yourself to the floor.
Forever in that moment is where you belong.
I can move on. You can not. You are not Allowed to.
I can scan; you can not. The field is mine. You are Benched.
This double standard is ripping us apart.
Or maybe, we're already torn.
No, we've been torn since we started.
Steven Fried Sep 2013
I do not know who I am addressing
but to whom it may concern
I am concerned
I am concerned with your character
past your name, past your sign, past your shore
I am concerned
you fear death, and loneliness, and loss
Your ignorance is your downfall
Your life, companionship, and love
are open, and still
waiting

I don't know where you are from
but I reach
I do wonder
past your street, past your zip, past your block
I do wonder how far you've come,
how hard your journey,
how arduous your task
but though chaos and entropy may dismay
further on through the further, and deeper, and colder, and darker

I don't know what you've done
but infinitely so
I do care.

Money rips
fibers pulling
and snapping
valueless greenery
as it ever was

Gold melts
like the slime
of materialism

Oil burns
for those who have
burned
for it

Be eternal
because to me
you ever will be.
Sep 2013 · 799
Pills & IPods
Steven Fried Sep 2013
Pills are like IPods
They come in all different
Shapes
Sizes

and Colors

but in the hands of the youth
Pills & IPods serve the same purpose
Pacification and
an Escape from reality
Sep 2013 · 739
Jack
Steven Fried Sep 2013
Jack screamed sillily
Trilling along the border,
the edge loomed nearer…
of the known world at least.
The archer notched his arrow.
He was not yet eighteen.
But drafted
for his country.
Older days, of mystery and castles, lords, ladies, feuds and feudal lands;
before science hit the starting block.
Green blankets where cities stand
towering skyscrapers of another kind,
of wood and oats.
Knights strode
reminiscent of Cyclops
for his visor was singular.
But I digress,
Jack screamed.
for the archer's arrow had indeed leapt off the bow.
Jack made no sound.
Jack was as victim of war… but as well a perpetrator.
I like to believe there is always a choice.
This is truly a false sentiment.
Sep 2013 · 346
Asleep behind the wheel
Steven Fried Sep 2013
It's cold.
The trick to staying awake while driving is to open the window,
because you stay cold.
In the womb we are rocked to sleep in the warmth.

I just threw a sweatshirt on.
The cotton is soft on my skin,
so inviting,
I had to.

If that doesn't work,
put music on.
Sing… and loudly.

But instead my eyelids drooped.
The rumble strips rumbled,
and the car-horns blared.

Luckily, I was blissfully asleep behind the wheel.
Sep 2013 · 939
Small, Medium, Large
Steven Fried Sep 2013
Small, medium, and large
men
face adversity.

Violence begets violence
they say.

But with hate...
a choice
arises.

A small man
perpetuates.

He is not just angry at the world,
but at himself.

A small man is small in heart, mind and body.
no compassion.
no free-will.
no strength to resist.

A medium man
avoids problems
because he doesn't know how
to be a part of the solution.

And,
a large man
fights.

He'll fight the system, the power,
the oppressor, the instigator,
the teacher, the mayor.

Not because he is bigger, because god knows…
sometimes the largest of men are the smallest of stature...

But because a large man
has beliefs, morals, and values;
all of which trump the latest trend.
Aug 2013 · 676
All Gone
Steven Fried Aug 2013
All one glory.
ominous contextual, meanings
humongous without thought to consequence…
sulfurous smell, sour, double entendre
homogenous council
genius plan, or so we thought
genuine execution, or so it seemed
feminine taste in styling, perfect
female operatives
male operatives
stale-mate… disaster retruning
pale faced bodies lie strewn
plate on plate on plate of shields return, with bodies
flat faces
flake, crack, and cry
fan the widows, fan the orphans, wipe their tears
plan for the future, if you dare again
dan-ce for the youth and show them hope
man-to-man we deserve it… or do we?
mention history
prevention is operative at this point
invention, 1984,
convention, Meadows
convent, Corrine
Death ends for us all with a path… or without.
Aug 2013 · 402
Not a love poem
Steven Fried Aug 2013
I can't write a love poem
I'm missing a muse
I'm also afraid of cheapening the art,
of being generic.

I can't write a love poem,
but I'd love to…
why am I afraid to try?
Aug 2013 · 2.0k
Brevity and the like
Steven Fried Aug 2013
Brevity is suited for the ******.
Elocution can be twisted into a knot,
and used for courtly euthanasia.

Brevity is best used for condemnation.
Concordantly, circumlocution is perfect for the panegyrics,
of that same party.

So if your the ****** or damning keep it brief;
no one wants to hear a fool trip over his words,
or a liar sing praise of his foe.
Aug 2013 · 714
Lost in the Decadence
Steven Fried Aug 2013
I wander
and question.

I may have been raised on the wrong language
or continent,
or culture…

The hubs of European culture
have me lost,
and fumbling with my own.

Lost in a park,
a canal,
a street,
architecture,
decadence and delicacy.
Aug 2013 · 947
Revolving Doors
Steven Fried Aug 2013
Revolving doors are after me,
Brushes from a stranger are pickpockets,
Financiers are after the little man's money,
Bankers are all corrupt,
Politicians are all corrupt,
Everyone has an agenda...
or maybe I'm just paranoid.

Or maybe,
this is a delineation of the deplorable state humanity,
and the world,
has plunged to.
Maybe my paranoia is,
a byproduct
of years of justification and
rational motivation
Aug 2013 · 808
"Do you believe in God?"
Steven Fried Aug 2013
On a chocolate tour through Paris,
after asking me which type of ice cream I would like,
My tour guide asked me if I believed in god...
I told her it was a loaded question,
and said "Plum and yes."

An odd question from my self-proclaimed,
atheist,
and godless tour guide.

She said she didn't believe in Adam and Eve because
she was studying Archeology,
hence she could not believe in god.

I felt bad for her.
Aug 2013 · 292
Poetry in Paris
Steven Fried Aug 2013
I don't understand why I'm confined
this **** hotel room
I want to be out
only 24 hours in a day...
eight hours of sleep?
let's try four.
I've done it!
I need to break out
I've learned not to sleep.
To make the most of my time... I guess that means poetry
Poetry in Paris...
I'm sure I'm not the first one who has had this idea....
Aug 2013 · 617
Paris 1
Steven Fried Aug 2013
The desolate feeling of being in a foreign country and having a case of the monolinguistics…is done to death.

The constant smell of burning cigarettes is
nothing new.

The pick pockets who give the city a bad name are
unfixable and unshakeable.

The attraction for the brightest minds in the world though…
that's impressive, inexpressible, and so utterly obvious.

The stunning structures,
warm atmosphere,
and beautiful architecture,
don't hurt.
Aug 2013 · 604
Homeless Parisian
Steven Fried Aug 2013
A woman,
prostrated,
head bowed.

Her one possession?
a paper cup.

On Champs-Élysées street,
what a shame…

What else is there…?
But a shame.
Aug 2013 · 425
Hyde Park 3
Steven Fried Aug 2013
A tourist asked me directions.
He made these assumptions:
A man on park bench writing with a book next to him must be a Native.
Sitting there so at home must indicate that he is home.
I didn’t correct him, didn’t bother, just sent him in the right direction.
I find it odd that I can be so easily contented and comfortable in so many places
thousands of miles away from home.
Aug 2013 · 543
Hyde Park 2
Steven Fried Aug 2013
Bikes pass the green park bench.
Arabs in Armani Express outerwear circle the natural beauty; I watch.
Demur English women plod past in ones, twos, and groups of elegance and young simple folly.
They breathe the freshness in, and again, I watch.
Aged men play with their grandchildren in the field.
I recline.
They see me watching, they all do, even the sun…
English boys with coifed hair cycle by in expensive jeans and extravagantly matched shirts run, bike, walk, stroll, and I watch.
Hyde Park is the richest public good that has become… or maybe always was…
The milieu for different races, ages, and sexes to converge, collapse, and coexist.
And for men to sit on green benches,
watching… and writing.
Aug 2013 · 649
Hyde Park 1
Steven Fried Aug 2013
Aged wooden tentacles stretch towards the sky, gnarled and dignified with age.
They push upward breaking ground
miles high.
Foliage sprouts, blooms, reflects, and falls.
Dead among us… the living,
survived by the lush greenery.
Billions of the green soft razor-edged blades which
help create the scenic setting
pad the tread of man and beast during
Summer, Fall, Winter, and Spring,
Rain, Shine, Snow, or Hail.
In the distance colossal concrete monsters rise.
Just another part of the picture,
another piece to the puzzle.
Another evolution of Mother Earth’s tentacles.
Aug 2013 · 1.1k
Mt. Scopus
Steven Fried Aug 2013
My return trip,
feels like a new beginning

New sights and sounds,
to rediscover.

Judaism’s heart and soul
lies within the city.

Winding streets and twisting turns
lead to the Kotel, the Holy of Holies.

A religious center and
my core.

The cultural hub, tossed salad, or melting ***,
of the religious world.

Burqas and Tallit,
Tzitzis and Crosses,
try, oh they try…
to coexist.
Aug 2013 · 5.4k
Peacocking over Tz'fat
Steven Fried Aug 2013
Like a peacock on a roof,
I’m a wonder with height
American-Jew on Mt. Harmon.

My tallis are bright feathers
My tefillin, my beak.
In Israel they are me.

Why do I feel different in the Land?
Like a peacock on a roof,
I’m curiously at home.
Aug 2013 · 793
Kineret
Steven Fried Aug 2013
The hustle and bustle is nature…
Ants swarming,
Birds soaring with majesty over
Sparkling blue water, over
Blinding reflections.
These birds and these ants
and this hustle and this bustle
revolve around
the Life Source of a nation, of a People…
So breathe deep; you may drink This water.
This is a pure land.
Aug 2013 · 1.2k
Eden
Steven Fried Aug 2013
Eden, liar
You have wormed into my heart

Whispering
sweets of tender wonder

Prescribing
hallucinogens of a future "we"

Breaking with
a straw, and fake number

Eden, where is my innocence?
I am but a husk

A thin black dress,
A swooping neckline,
You are my affection.
Aug 2013 · 5.7k
Apathy
Steven Fried Aug 2013
Magnesium strip
brighter than a diamond

Sierra Leon blood Stings like an eye-pin,
lobotomy,

JFK's sister,
but this is not democracy,

Vatican city,
oppression and atrocity

Iran,
What a theocracy,

Brainwash religion,
for the jihad, and crusades,

Rawanda Armenian, genocides,
aids,

killing a minority,
might gives authority,

but the greatest tragedy,
is the world wide apathy.
Aug 2013 · 3.8k
Spark
Steven Fried Aug 2013
I was pure white
complimenting your darkness

We were lit
and destroyed by our spark

A flash of joy
too hot, too bright

My substance melted
...you forgot

Our time was lost
through disasters and heartbreaks

I shared myself with you,
Why hadn't you done the same?
Jul 2013 · 790
Closure "Fuck You"
Steven Fried Jul 2013
I'm going to handle this **** myself
Be it by
Holding in
Shutting out
Getting angry
Lashing at those around me
I don't care.
Because no one can know
That I'm mad as ****

I shouldn't be
There were no feelings
It didn't matter
But for some ****** reason
I never had closure
Never thought I needed it

And now she hooked up with this tiny ****
And I'm just here
Not wanting her,
But not wanting her with anyone else

It's selfish
And confusing
But *******
It's me.
Jul 2013 · 293
The city
Steven Fried Jul 2013
In the city
searching

Locked within its walls
she awaits

For her knight of the night
in dressed garb

Luckily
he is searching for her.
Jul 2013 · 326
Years like Dreams
Steven Fried Jul 2013
My life passes by while I sleep
Years like dreams

People here and there pass
And I rest

Sleep is for restoration
Not for evading reality

For fantasy worlds are their name
Fantasy, fake, My life passes by while I sleep

Years like dreams
People here and there pass
And I

The real fun comes once sleep is over
So why do I sleep for so long?

My eyes droop
I need to fight to keep them open
To see the beautiful colors

Rather than
Allowing myself to fall into the black voids of my eyelids,
Just a dream
Jul 2013 · 679
Mild insomnia
Steven Fried Jul 2013
Heavy eyes
pins in my
sockets

Yearning for peace
finding birds, crickets, and creatures

Knit brow in aggravated
concentration

Deceived.

Earlier than preconceived
trapped against my will
by my over active mind

Efforts are
Futile

Sleep is
Elusive

Life is
Conniving

because

I am
Exhausted.
Jul 2013 · 1.7k
Airplane seats
Steven Fried Jul 2013
**** em.

Claustrophobic nightmares
Chiropractic disasters

Supplementary salvation-
From Salvation-
pillows and blankets

Strangers are wed
finitely

Elbow-room is
as precious as gold
a needle in a haystack

A waiting room
for greater adventures in store.
Jul 2013 · 539
Katzrin
Steven Fried Jul 2013
Roots of Judaism
Thick as the pillars
Solid as the ancient stone
Sempiternally grip as a testament
To the growing nation
Sixth century tradition

These roots burgeon a tree
We are leaves
We fall
Among dead legends like the millions before us
We turn to dust

The tree of Judaism remains
The flag flies, the sun rises
We stand in defiance
Barbarically attacked
Our tree pruned
The roots of Judaism run deep

Pray for the country, my country
Pray for the nation, my nation
Pray for the people, my people

For I am Jewish and my roots run deep,
I lie among legends
Wreathed in tradition and community
Jul 2013 · 804
My Home (revised)
Steven Fried Jul 2013
Earth, USA, Poconos, Camp Ramah, Boys Campus, Bunk 12, Third wooden step/
a hornets nest underneath- harmlessly buzzing,/
we are invincible/
peace draws
me back./

Leaning back on the fourth step, the wood digs into my elbows but/
I'm too content/
a sprawling bright green hill of grass/
plunges downward with a strip of gravel leading to the lake./

Feeling the aged, warm wood beneath my feet is/
cozy/
A gazebo is at the apex of the lush hill/
falling apart with cobwebs and flaking wood/
no one said home was perfect.

I tilt my head upward briefly to feel the warmth of the sun/
downward a square pool surrounded by a romantic chain-link fence./
a run down boathouse./
My first kiss./
I had a "secret to tell her."

A serene manmade lake sits just below the boathouse./
deep blue waters/
and the "blob” capture my attention.

The picturesque scene… the lake surrounded by a dense forest at the bottom/
the giant beautiful hill which houses for just a brief period,/
some of the best friends I’ve ever had/
is home to me./
It is serenity, it is comfort, it is love.

Home has no definition,/
but the third wooden step, bunk 12, boys campus, Camp Ramah, USA, Earth,/
gazing in the hot summer sun/
 over the most beautiful piece of land/
I've ever laid eyes upon/
sure feels like home to me.
Jul 2013 · 1.1k
Waking in Israel
Steven Fried Jul 2013
When the crickets tweet,
The rooster crows,
the birds caw,
the donkey brays,
the men holler,
my roommate snores like a steam engine,

all before 4 am;

I thank God for the wake up call.

My day can begin that much earlier-

with the sight of the sunrise
the smell of the animals
the touch of the grass
the taste of the sea air
and the sound of prayer.

My six senses remind me once again
Where I am
and
Why I am here.

In the Holy Land
to revel in
Brotherhood, and Culture and Judaism
Jun 2013 · 402
Think of me
Steven Fried Jun 2013
Near or far,
I'll be there.
It matter not where you are.

Think of me in the flutter of your hair;
leave not my memory behind.
For here lies my soul bare.

Memories and years intertwined,
A bond we do form,
Perfection I do find.

We have weathered many a tremendous storm;
you are as mesmerizing as a rose-
unbreakable, beyond the norm.

Our book does not close.
A new-separate chapter,
enter the future with dignified repose.

I wish you full bellied laughter;
for we will both meet again after.
Jun 2013 · 2.9k
Colors
Steven Fried Jun 2013
You are blue
Your companionship has long since gone away
Your words come slowly if ever
Your interjections have no meaning
Your passion is a doused flame
Your decisions are unfair
  
You are bronze
Your shine is lackluster
Your potential is untapped
Your enthusiasm is misdirected
  
You are rust
Your intellect is a-waste
Your trust is broken
Your mind is now clouded
  
You are brown
Your ear is unsharpened
You coughs are unnatural
Your friendship is valued even yet
  
You are orange
Your ethic is admirable
Your company is comical
Your life is my soaps
  
You are yellow
Your face is but fair
Your skin has blemishes
Your actions not so demure – but yet
  
You are red
Your actions are fuel for my fire
Your intentions are good but the crafted hands left wanting
  
You are Violet
Your pain was great
Your color is of love
Your solid perseverance is for me
  
You are White
Your brilliance outshines mine
Your patience burns as fast as light
Your opinion flares as bright as magnesium
  
Black is not found
Deep down I have looked
But came back wanting
  
Is that naïve?
Jun 2013 · 969
Over the Bay
Steven Fried Jun 2013
Gaze over the bay and
recline with me.
Appreciate the beautiful trees that ebb and flow in the wind,
join them and become one with the flag on the breeze.
Don't mind the intruders.
There is juxtaposition with
the two red satellite beasts.
The bay is waging war with technological innovation in the twilight before dawn.
The towers are malignant tumors.
There can be no explanation...
Speak on things far deeper than the common vernacular.
Externalize your feelings, internalize the images, worship the stars.
I have a sheet, and an uncomfortable bed, but I need you to listen,
for a while longer yet...
Jun 2013 · 1.0k
Diction
Steven Fried Jun 2013
There are billions of words- yet there is only one correct word.

Whether in the fields of Oklahoma,
or in the deserts of Saudi Arabia,
writers know that one right thing to say.

Happy, elated, joyous, cheerful, blissful.

They all mean the same thing, but connotatively,
are worlds apart.

I was happy for his success.
I was elated over my success.
I was joyous at the party.
I was cheerful during the Christmas season.
I was feeling blissful during the wedding ceremony.

Without conscious word choice, the world would a very sad and monotonously gray place indeed-
rather than a beautiful spectrum of color.
Jun 2013 · 1.1k
Deception
Steven Fried Jun 2013
From a distance you are beautiful
close proximity highlights your supposed refinement
then you open your mouth...

A whirlwind of immaturity and thoughtlessness
barrages me.

Why don't you have friends?
Well talking a million miles out of your *** doesn't help.

I'm exhausted by the end- worn out- done.

You close your mouth and I forget,
I'm ****** in like a male fly to a shiny-female light.
Only your words are a much more effective fly zapper than electric lamps
and I’ll soon learn.
Jun 2013 · 413
Departure
Steven Fried Jun 2013
It's that time of the summer
when in increments,
slowly,
ever so slowly,
friends depart.

I'm growing up,
but I yearn for a time when I didn’t want to sleep in,
for a time when decisions were out of my hand.

Everything is different
we have licenses
we have jobs
we have new friends
we have lost old ones
we go to see colleges.

No one is staying here.

We are all leaving one after another;
I just wish it were on my terms.
Jun 2013 · 735
Wind
Steven Fried Jun 2013
Unseen,
destructive reaction

a branch quakes,
pines sway,

whiplash,
forces glide

millions of fingers,
through my hair

the original pompadour,
no adhesive necessary-

the original home wrecker,
no mistress necessary-

all natural, 
one-hundred percent reusable

eye pulling,
lip smacking,

directionless,
brute force

Strong enough
to lift a house…

Delicate enough
to abet a butterfly…
Jun 2013 · 848
Anarchist
Steven Fried Jun 2013
The strongest man is just immature.
More versatile than the
much real work, we operate machines, so whatever really. But the chillest part is,
too few women in their crop-tops, their bandeau's, their strips of cloth- are
death-defyingly wild. And
far more cutting than a bullet can ever be.
We never press the surface;
you have a beautiful aroma as wood in a forest.
Help. I know I'm stronger than that.
We are all entertainers and audience members
I am an anarchist
One, please, do it with me…
Jun 2013 · 269
Summer
Steven Fried Jun 2013
1 am
“Animal House"
Heavy eyelids
Silence
I'm not watching for the movie
I'm watching because

It's summer.
The air is hot;
the pools are cold;
and the timing is just right.
Jun 2013 · 1.7k
Page 51
Steven Fried Jun 2013
Don’t quit a book until you’ve read the first 50 pages

Because she is not a ****…
Rather an opportunist

And she is not easy…
Rather extremely open

And lastly, she is not a *****…
Rather a budding entrepreneur

Life is about perspective.
Reserve judgment until the end of the book
Because page 51 just might change your life.
Jun 2013 · 294
More Therapy
Steven Fried Jun 2013
I need more therapy.
I have to stop getting so **** emotional over nothing
I have to stop closing myself off from every little annoyance
I have to stop being so attached to girls I barely know
I have to get my head on straight
I have to stop letting other people dictate my mood
I have to take control
I need more therapy.
Jun 2013 · 745
Nightmare
Steven Fried Jun 2013
A castle with millions of doors
And long corridors ghosted by
Thirsty alien creatures.

Each door led to horrifying monsters
with visages of stone and grime.

Some doors, red, titanic doors,
led home.

Time flowed out of sync.

I returned to an infirmary fiilled with my friends and family.
Few hours passed in my castle of terrors
yet years would fly by in the real world.
They aged
These visits
broke my heart…

Every door was a possible portal back,
I'd inch the door open slowly for fear of falling and losing my family.

I'd end up in the castle again.

Because a fair maiden lay in waiting.
How did I know?
I never saw her,
only a feeling.

This was just a dream,
just a torturous dream in which
I was torn away from my family
and drawn to a mysterious woman through a castle filled with
vile beasts
as I stayed
Immortal.
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