You may be my master



but have you mastered me?

Why insist on telling us

What hurts and what does not?

Don’t tell me it’s for the best while my stomach is in knots

It may not almost be over and it’s not a bloody test

These aren’t pearls of wisdom, they’re benign at best

Do you know my demons?

Better yet do you know your own?

Don’t speak of pain you know not of

Don’t quote the Gods with foreign names

Don’t help.

Just listen to the silence

The vacancy of our souls

She chose to ignore it

He chose to wear it on his sleeve

Does this make us less than you or

Could this make us more?

Don’t tell me years of darkness

Won’t blind you in the light

Don’t tell me bones heal easy

With no fracture of a fight

I don’t envy the white swan

Nor will I desire her in black

Be quite, listen, step back

I don’t want to hear your answers

You haven’t studied this quite yet

It doesn’t make me smarter

But it may lessen my regret when saying

I know my soul

Now do you?

My dear little pet

Be wise with pain and treat it well

Feed it or starve

Not with senseless pity but reason and suave

Every empire needs a crown

Be the king

The plebeian

Is filled with hunger and disdain

Just don’t tell me what doesn’t hurt

Until you feel your army’s pain

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