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The second half to the "Acrostic of Self-Concept" series. This time, it is reality. |
Rigid and old was this town down below A Jade Moon watched over solemnly The families inside, joyful and peaceful Gave thanks to their good-hearted king Eternally night was this realm All had known this but one A foreigner who came from a faraway land To visit the celebrated king Anxiously, when approached the king Word had it he stayed in the streets With an umbrella to constantly protect him From sleet, hail, snow or rain Light in shades of green was all around them “Hello?” she said, approaching still with caution He handed a piece of paper that said “touch me” She reached to touch his chest, but it phased through him “Illusion!” she whispered in awe and surprise He gave a wry smile, his eyes gleaming in the night It is quiet, the tension rising and falling each breath He leans to her and hands her another paper The catacombs of my heart is where you will find me It wrote, a solemn look now etched his face “I’ll find you,” she said and walked away He closed the umbrella and began to pray Young Aphrodite, forgive this king for his cruelty Let this foreigner find the catacombs Let her thaw my soul, frozen by winter And let my heart thrive once more |