Captured Musings

by kholinar

A saint and patron
of idle heros.

Locked away behind a
consumptive mind
in the deep and dark.

Abandoned by Sol,
abused by the moon,
pale skin uncratered
by time.

Thoughts abscess,
memories hemorrhage
staining full lips
with concession.

Suitors weep to save her,
princes spend their fortunes
for a smile.

But if hope found her,
fascination would flutter away
to be pinioned by a hawk.

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