one day
my prince did come
only he was bleeding still
and limping badly
from the terrors
of his journey
even now his pain
his demons
never cease in the torment
of his battered body
of his broken mind
there are moments white
and rare
when he quiets
to the whisper of my song
when I might brave
a touch
when his eyes may rise
to meet mine for one brief
and brilliant flash
but most of the time
he sits apart
trembling in his grief
swearing and shouting
for his drink
