Monday, December 17, 2012

blood makes a bitter cage

Winter's chill creeps in,
frosting your mask with diamonds -
I thought you were a hero,
sent to guard my soul.

The oaths we made
were iron in my eyes,
and I shed my blood
to make them true.
You waved goodbye
and in your hands
our oaths washed away -
running like a river
my heart could not dam.

In barren silence
I see my iron light -
Your oath is only the mist,
and blood makes a bitter cage.

No comments:

Post a Comment