ever after

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