Two poems of fate

The last one standing

A woman buys herself a dress she’s never wanted

She’s lived her life mundane, but her dreams were always haunted

So she steps out unabashed, with worries she never counted

Thunder raging around the path she has appointed.

And with every word and deed, she courts blame, shame and scandal

If she thinks she is a saint, she is being called a vandal

her flame is blowing out, but she still holds a candle

Whenever she meets her match, she’ll just about handle.

She reaches the castle, where everyone’s playing to last

She’s the only joker, weeps, while everyone’s having a blast

but destiny comes a knocking on this house of wax and glass

She’ll be the lone one standing, when everything falls apart.

The weak and brave knight

Pray, Don’t tell them what you’ve seen

The castle where you’ve been

Once belonged to the drag-queen

Her treasure was weaned

To her they’ve been mean

Once you have entered this realm

Nostalgia becomes a dream

Unsheathe your sword, but don’t be bold

Tread carefully on the carpet that is rolled

Time is running out, its sweat is cold

A hero is unwelcome, even if he’s old.

While they dance, stealth and beware

just remind yourself that you don’t care

They’re all at it for the lion’s share

Only you dare to meet the tiger in its lair

Everyone talks aloud, but the air is silent

their voices leave unsaid what is really meant

On the siege perilous danger is permanent

The king awaits your feats but you remain distant.

He returns dismayed to his throne

And don’t even bother with the crone

Chivalry is slighted, but be meek as stone

Your presence is an absence to be known.

When the dark knight arrives, he strikes terror in your heart

His show of strength and valour, meant to tear your dreams apart

be good as gold, the game is not yet out

when the cards are called, he will have no clout.