Golden Mask
Am I the one That stands in the way?
The mind that drips
like ice in the heat.
Fully formed, but incapable to think.
Amongst the crowd, my voice is loud.
In the dark, do I have the heart?
What's plain to them, ain't so much for me
so a noble steed carried me off to his dream.
I have lived there a thousands years
Off the flesh of the one who brought me here.
Now I lay in his past wearing the golden mask.
Copyright © Sawyer Wind | Year Posted 2013
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