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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2096573
The second half to the "Acrostic of Self-Concept" series. This time, it is reality.
Rigid and old was this town down below
A Jade Moon watched over solemnly
The families inside, joyful and peaceful
Gave thanks to their good-hearted king

Eternally night was this realm
All had known this but one
A foreigner who came from a faraway land
To visit the celebrated king

Anxiously, when approached the king
Word had it he stayed in the streets
With an umbrella to constantly protect him
From sleet, hail, snow or rain

Light in shades of green was all around them
“Hello?” she said, approaching still with caution
He handed a piece of paper that said “touch me”
She reached to touch his chest, but it phased through him

Illusion!” she whispered in awe and surprise
He gave a wry smile, his eyes gleaming in the night
It is quiet, the tension rising and falling each breath
He leans to her and hands her another paper

The catacombs of my heart is where you will find me
It wrote, a solemn look now etched his face
“I’ll find you,” she said and walked away
He closed the umbrella and began to pray

Young Aphrodite, forgive this king for his cruelty
Let this foreigner find the catacombs
Let her thaw my soul, frozen by winter
And let my heart thrive once more
© Copyright 2016 Dr. Kottkamp (dr._kottkamp at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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