Fearful Heart

The impending sentence
of forthcoming destiny
reveals its form.
A countenance, a malady, so impetuous;
it struggles to be reborn.

As I vie for some semblence
of tranquility;
an ease to this dread.
To no avail.
I am destitue in heart.
Fear a barrage in my head.

And as sole proprietor
of the dominion;
I am the sovereign of this realm.
I dispatch my fractured warriors.
Bid, protect
the tear-stained bruises of my helm.