For Whom The Pale Blade Pierces

2 min readMay 13, 2019

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Trials and tribulations step aside.

The ax has fallen.
I’m betrayed.
Sent my best into battle.
Delay beset with delay.
“But new frontiers await,”
The voices cry in my head.
Could a trap be sprung?
Could my adventure be bait?

Severed at the neck.
Blood of my struggle so near.
Pungent, wet, and sticking.
Do I dare hear?

Pulling at the reigns, all my might given in fear.
Crossing darkening rivers full of hate and distrust.
Boiling in disgust and regret.
The path full of brambles which used to be clear.
My heart turns to dust.

Get away,
Run away,
Stay away from me.

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Bringing real feelings along with messages of inspiration and imagination to life. Awakening is the symptom of my infectious condition. Poetry is my condition.