My Knight

***This is a continuation of This poem is a continuation from River StyxDesert 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