The prince first before the adversary.
The witch before the who?
The question of unknowing/
The means of pushing through.
The ram above the doorway.
The blood that spilt in veins.
The eternal never glowing.
The sheep, the wood, the claim.
I am not sacrificial.
Nor am I to eat.
I am meant for climbing mountains
and landing on my feet.
I do not wish to martyr
at the roads unpaved but crossed.
I do not wish to wander.
My soul is never lost.
I do not wish to reach you,
or for you or for me.
I do not wish to teach you
for learning minds are free.
I do not wish to love
what stole my piece of sleep.
I do not wish to blanket
the wreath of all my gorgeous grief.
I wish to climb the narrow tress
that leads always to out.
To the light that stars sing
when they’re trying not to shout.
I wish to feel the solidity of the waves
that float upon the sand.
I wish to bask in all the glory
of trusting outstretched hands.
I wish for you not to listen,
or speak or think, my dear,
the only wish I really wish,
is loving without fear.
Prince stood atop the mountain,
forgetting light’s not sound,
blocking all the beams
so the waves just went around.
The shadows that were cast
were bright and thick and red.
The prince now the adversary,
the wicked which is dead.
by Heather Stargazer 2020 (lower case “c” with a circle around it) Tell pirates- ARR!