I saw her at the end of the road
Perhaps walking alone
Though a lonely boulevard,
Or walking down the palatial stairs
With dejected steps,
Or perhaps I saw her
In the slumbering town
Hiding beneath the mountains
In a shadowy nook of  the world.
An unmistakable anguish in her face
The damsel in distress
Wondering if I was
The Knight in shining armour;
Or perhaps she was
But the illusory dream
Of a time bygone.

My drifting soul
Pervading the misty wind
With all the valour and gallantry
Abounding to be poured
Into a form resembling me
Not an ordinary boy desiring to be man
But a saviour with his brandished steel
Confronting ‘the multiple villanies of nature’.

I left stranded,
In a battle whose outcome I already know,
Yet I depart to meet my finality
At a war that was never mine
At a dream dearly deceased.


2 responses to “Macbethian

    • This is one of the greatest compliment I ever received, or hope to receive.
      I try to forge a poetic self that is an antithesis of what I am in everyday reality: more of a firebrand than a wistful romantic.

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