Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Michael Solc Jun 2014
Under rolling clouds
of purest white
stretching over bright
blue skies,
my feet carry me
as if winged
through the lush
green hills of this world
you've shown me.

Your cries carry me
through the deepest
and though
I grow weary,
I must carry on.

Time grows short,
fortunes pass unseen.
I yearn only
to gaze upon
your face
once more.

And yet I dread
the words
I know must come.
Past these demons
of darkest nightmares
and through this
dungeon of the
blackest heart.

Through all this hell,
I come to
my hollow reward.
An empty room,
bearing only an echo.
Your princess
is in another castle.

— The End —