Poetry: Kings, Pawns, Friends, and Fawns

My life was supposed to be so lavish, but it became tragic
Instead of making magic of what happened, I let it ride

My efforts were in vain to stay afloat amidst the flames,
For I almost drowned – I damn near went insane
I just couldn’t take the pain of feeling my ambitions die in me –
I couldn’t remain Dr. Jekyll with Hyde hurting inside of me

So I let my passions burn out, until I was nothing but a shell
A hollow pit for the flames, smoldering in my private hell –
Staring into the abyss, chewing on glass, and waiting on the world to change
Dreaming painfully of the spring, when I could be well again

Because when your vision dies, you’ll fail to see,
The difference between who you’ve been and who you could be
But this is what happens when love convinces you they know you better than yourself,
The moment they stop cheering, you’ll stop believing in yourself

And they’ll care naught for what you’ve lost,
For when they’re finished, you’ll be left to pay the costs –
Strange that your biggest fan can make you an enemy of yourself
As if they themselves bequeathed to you your happiness, health, and wealth –

Burning to the ground in a day, the person it took you years to become
Not caring for your pain when your value is done
So it is, how sometimes, kings are made pawns
Mere fodder at the ready disposal of their fawns

What will you do, now that you see it all,
Will you rise up, and be again a king ready for the fall
Or will you fortify yourself, and defend you as a man wiser than then
Declaring that never more will you be made to lay in waste by a friend

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