Drawn to love,
For he has hated enough,
And sulked in his very own story,
Like a hero who must
Learn to trust,
These details aren’t as gory.

What do you call a fool,
Who tries to rule
A world he has lost twice?
And he rolls still,
In hopes to mill
A six out of his dice.

Running wild
In his veins is blood
Of kings who never fell,
And yet he chose
His poison too soon,
To burn in his very own hell.

Look around!
There are examples galore –
Beautiful things are vicious,
Even a rose remains
Guarded by thorns,
In hopes to stop the ambitious.

Or the moon that sways
In a faraway place,
Safe away from the mistress,
While the sun burns
In a fiery blob,
Swallowing its own distress.

Of still waters that run
Deep within,
You thought you could go for a swim?
Wait till you see it
Pull you down,
And drown you on a whim.

You wondered why
The plants were nice,
When they breathe out in the morning,
Night comes,
They howl like wolves,
And wheeze air with a warning.

And diamonds you find
Lodged deep in mines,
While lotuses grow in bogs,
To get to them,
Be ready to fight
Dirt and an army of frogs.

Why do we go
For treacherous things?
When we have simple rules to live by,
And run after wild beings
Into the woods,
Who do nothing but complicate life.

All the difference lies
In the choices we make,
We have gallons of water in the sea,
Of all the things to drink from,
We drink from the cup of
Hemlock tea.

And choose love
Knowing what it could do to us,
We go after fatal things,
They might seem pleasant
Till they last,
Before they burn our wings.