hidden identities.
fractured mentalities.
we live as we are and die as we were.
promised a purpose by the divine.
promised a freedom. All it did was confine.
confine us to the realm of the living.
made us believe that we were lucky to be breathing.
tell me good king of the north.
will you accept me as I am if I come forth?
will you question my morals and my deception?
or will you compliment my fair complexion?
for it is beauty that you respect, not the mind behind it.
it is opinion that you accept, not a command brought by wit.
tell me good sire...
if I speak plainly, will I be condemned to eternal fire?
will you watch the flames lick my skin and dance around me?
will you play tunes to celebrate, or will you let me be?
in the end, you are what you every human is... a liar.
it is in my right to know as I am a squire.
I live for the stories and the words no one dares utter.
I live for the tales of love that make the masses flutter.
it is I once more, pen as sword, paper as shield.
dare me not, for I have more power than you can weild.
-S.A.H.M, the scribe of dawn.
©sahm
S