Sieges, Sappers, and a Secret Keep

Drained dry, by this draught of perjury

I hoard what’s left from those I call my sanctity

Locked in my keep, my quill cracks and flakes

This parchment withers, like the rivers that once flowed free

I’m blinded, pathetic, by blood loss, the mortar I built this edifice of insipid dogged evanesce

My guards have turned to Brutus for wisdom

Sieging my sanity, I am frail, forlorn, foe to those I sought to save by sweat

I threw my body against the encroaching enemy

My love’s machinations manifested devils pillaging mercenaries

Vanity or majesty

Making way for perfect clarity

Feeding on crumbs of hope, my emaciated faith scurries through

The shadows of my castle called reality.

A pounding at the door,

Drums thrum reverberates through the keep

Punctuating the pit of my callous soul,

Life-water, nourishing the soft beneath quivers with the pound, pound, pound.

They seek to renovate the blueprints

Change the schematics to castle Reality

I can only stand on the window,

Whispering winds tell me their truth

My fears, my escape, permanent yet pitiful,

Arrests my senses, numbing to the cold

Faith steps out of the shadows, staring, grieving for my malign intent.

He gasps, collapses, unable to breathe.

I step off my soapbox of humanistic destination.

I long for my friend,

From ledge to his side,

I can’t mark my steps

But as this building burns,

My dreams dashed upon the rocks my body wishes to be borne

I cradle my friend, my faith,

And await my fate with bated breath.

And no man was witness to the siege

That burdens the sarcophagi of my secret keep.