Your chest is tight, full of fright
But you fight cause you know you’re right,
But then the light grows dim
And life seems grim and dreary,
And you grow so weary of the fight;
You take flight into the night…
And there it is, the draught of poison
To take that will make everything better,
Even though you’ve been taught not to sip
Or even let it touch your lips,
But you’re caught between pain and confusion
And the illusion of sleep that will keep
You in peace or at least give you rest
Even if it is in the arms of the beast,
So you lose all might, forget what is right,
Move to the goblet in sight, and you drink…
Blight fills your soul,
Your face turns ashen white,
And you hit the floor to fight no more…
At least until you wake again to take sword
In hand once more to face the same battle as before,
Once more
-
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noblethemes 
I was singing along with your poetry. I love how your craft your words, with such ease and art.
Thank you so very much! That means a lot to me … especially to know that you were singing along! 🙂 All the best to you with blessings! 🙂
Very savvy!
Thank you! 🙂