My face,
Sitting above
A collision of worlds
One, heartless, cold and empty of love
Waiting until the knife can plunge
Deep into an enemy's soul
Another, sad, full of depression
Wondering when it all
Will end
Yet another, sits on the water's edge
Playing with the waves
But stuck on a cloud
The next, with a sword at hand
Charging through the enemy's land
Ambition coursing through its veins
One is sitting on a throne of glass
Fantasy running free
Imagination the king and queen
There is still more, smaller lives
They lead me, day to day
As they sit below
A poker face
Where
Happiness
Plays pretend
A lot of my "worlds" are characters I've written about that I put a piece of me in, and it gives me a life back.
