Rich is the rust that sits on his throne
Decorated with my blood and stolen silk
Marred by the lackluster of his golden seal
Make no mistake of his arduous kneel
He raked my body of it’s veil
Pounded supple velvet into malted steel
Yet he cannot dampen my zeal
For I am beyond his treacherous feel
Curse his eyes that soar so high
May his lips blister and rot
I am not a muse that submits to you
My dignity will not repeal
For I am the wretched creature
The one you think of me
A nightmare encased in your creativity
So that is what I shall be
Your shackles on me fade
For the demon you make me I shall take
Thrust from your shadow to see
THE FREEDOM THAT IS MINE TO BE
I am a demon to one and only one
Yours truly,
POETRY FESTIVAL. Submit to site for FREE. Submit for actor performance. Submit poem to be made into film. 