Once upon a time
there were dragons…
And they flew
flew right into your arms
they take flight
they’ve stole so much
stole my words
may real reason to breathe
how could they tell you were such a treasure
when I was holding you so tight
yet off you go
in dragon flight
farewell my love
keep your wings light
If I was to tell you of the midnight occurrences
Of the lycans killing
And the fairies dancing
If I was to tell you of the nightly occurrences
Of the elfish princes raping
And the troll kings plotting
If I was to tell you of the moonlit occurrences
Of the witches brewing
And the dragons breathing
If I was to tell you of the darkest occurrences
Would you believe me?
The stars danced in my eyes
To the melody you’ve given me
They shined through numerous dark nights
I’ve counted them
Predicted all the movements
But then you gifted me a shooting star
Wrecking havoc across my night skies
Leaving me scrambling to catch up
To instill order to the chaos
Because what happens next?
As I lay in bed
I contemplate us
The combination you don’t want
The combination I yearn for
Considering all you’ve toiled
I don’t expect more
So be considerate
Don’t run rampant with my heart
Don’t underestimate my feelings
I don’t think I could handle it, if it was all just a lie
Until you figure out your trials
Us isn’t a pronoun to be used
Maybe its time to contemplate on someone else
There’s nothing much to say
There’s no way this could be easier
It hurts me to even consider it
No longer can I enjoy a night with you
No longer can there be late night whispers
Its not the fact that I don’t care.
I no longer want the passion that you give me
Its like experiencing a hot day when its winter
Its not what I want
I want you
But not what you give me
I have no more questions
I have no more lies
Yet more stories are needed,
made in a blink of an eye.
I have no more questions though
I have no more lies to tell
Yet stories must be told.
Told in grace,
Wrote in elegance,
Flow easily from the hand without much thought,
Spoken as easily as singing.
Not a story can be written without questions.
Nor can it be written without lies.
An author is no longer an author
when the reason to question and lie
isn’t in grasps.
For an author is just a person
with lies to answer questions.
Sadly an author is no longer I.
No doubt about it now.
Can’t even second guess it like I did.
The love is obvious
How could I’ve been so blinded?
Saved me from guessing.
Saved me from wishing for such a thing.
but… I lost it.
I had too much doubt.
I couldn’t believe it for a second.
So that beautiful thing?
That clearly I missed out on
And I will never witness such a beautiful love again