Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
A Simillacrum Mar 2019
What a vicious punk --
I'm pretty sure he lies about his age.
What's with the bow and ponytail?
Desert skin curtained by auburn,
socketed with emerald eyes.
Who does he think he's fooling?

What a deplorable. . .
I'm pretty sure his skill with a sword
is comparable to beginners.
Pillow lips protect a silver tongue.
While we work, he's in the taverns,
playing at conversation.

What a queer young man --
Even back on Jalima he ruffled
feathers on the goodly wings.
I wouldn't trust a man who would
speak, over choosing violence.
Who does he think he's fooling?
Meanwhile, in Eastham. . .
Olga Valerevna Apr 2017
I know you know I find you when you float above the sky
or swim inside the oceans flowing heavy in your eyes
Invite me as I am for that is all you ever see
remind the world we Live because we're broken at the knee
We crawl to claim our purpose while we replicate the Truth
repeat the words we hear for this is all that we can do
and you will not be bothered by the noise of other songs
you are the only the music I can play these Words upon
for you, my Malakai.

— The End —