The Queens Man
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sat in a prison of my making
dark holes in piled skulls
an unwelcome reminder
I am nothing like that boy
so full of righteous ambition
certain of what was just; right
blinded by that conviction
consumed by my fervour
I became the whirlwind
danger swims in certainty’s waters
sirens sing and sailors sink
rapt in passions promise
armour now covers what’s left
immedicable wounds etched within -
right can become wrong
I learned to build walls
to separate and preserve
some salvaged solemn sense of self
a sworn queen’s man
duty done, I sit apart
making peace with ghosts
Copyright © Marcus Whitnell | Year Posted 2023
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