My Knight

***This is a continuation of This poem is a continuation from River Styx, Desert Red and Waste/Safe Land and Harlequin.

My mind in tatters

no longer content

I suffer at the hands

the feet

the vile wit

of Harlequin.

Fettered

handcuffed

shackled

I am merely a toy

a vain prop

to make a mad man appear sane.

None talk to me

none will come to my aid

I sit alone

dirty

scared

invisible to all that prance before the chief.

Sure that I was forever entrapped

slowly going insane

my knight in shining armor

he finally appeared.

Harlequin tried to protest

to gloss over

the horrors he had done.

The Knight

unsheathed his sword

shattered my chain in one swift blow.

Turning

his sword made a graceful arc

as he beheaded Harlequin

while I cried

cheering at his death.

Sept. 17/18

Photo by Henry Hustava on Unsplash