Wednesday, 31 May 2017

Collision, Pt. 2

The riddle, he says.  When?

There is no riddle, I answer.
Just whispers that eat away at 
not the rotten bitter kind
but the type that keeps the
hopeless alive.
How sweet it was,
that blue sky.
I saw it.
Now I am resigned.
Tell me
is this victory?

There is no winning,
the dragon replies.
There is only acceptance.
Remember the riddle.
It is your only choice.

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