I have nights where I pace the corridors alone,
staring up at slapboards and wondering
if you will ever find the strength in your heart
to love someone. Burn and death are both tomorrow;
it makes me wonder if the reds were self-aware
when they scheduled the day for stack to fall.
Perhaps I will see you as I pace the grounds
of elephant walk, tracing past my steps that I followed
in the same way I learned to embrace camaraderie,
because it is not easy being the bastard child of Bonfire.
I have spent the past lifetime wide eyed, eagerly
learning about chivalry, brotherhood, and bonds
that I am never truly a part of.
Maybe that is why you find it difficult to summon
the strength to look into my inquisitive doe brown eyes
and tell me why you cannot care for someone as broken as I am;
why your hands shook like trembling sails holding onto
maelstrom lovers as she wailed out her soul onto your masts,
but you are full of hot air, and thus, you will never fly.
It makes me wonder why you pretend to give a shit about chivalry.
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