knave

The Melancholy of a Bodyguard

1

When she walks into a room, all is silent.

Poised with aplomb, no one is ever violent.

Classy is her adept style, she’s set to rule.

Be I her earth, always her eternal tool.

 

Her aspects of a princess, looks smooth like water.

Her words are true, known to have stopped a slaughter.

Clothed in pleasing robes of silk, she has it all.

Eternal bliss, an angel sent from heaven’s hall.

 

Her red lips arouse firm lust, my mouth turns dry.

Her wise bright eyes, shining like a fair blue sky.

Like a time lord’s solitude, her mind wanders.

Embracing fate, her clipped wings...she needless ponders.

 

Gentle are her chosen words, finer than mine.

Drunk when she laughs, her grin tastes like a cool wine.

She’s the saviour of many, none oppose her.

Contrast us both, I am but a lowly cur.

 

Be still my heart, if only for a second.

So I can ponder my fate, my soul I reckon.

Damned I shall be, for the feelings I hold dear.

LEAVE FLEE DEPART! For now you must disappear...

 

Feelings of love, sorrow, joy, they have no place.

The devil toys, with feelings that cannot erase.

If God were to rub me clean, I’d be left scarred.

To be her guard...

Is my love truly this barred?

 

Forever am I bound, by law, by curse?

Bulk my bias, would just make her vigour worse.

She is breath to all who gaze, I am her foil.

Nevertheless, I love and therefore must toil.

 

Thus, this princess I do love, my heart doth beat!

Stout misery, her scent is pang bittersweet.

When I look into those eyes, it pains me so.

She is my life, and that is all I know.

She is perfect, sadly, that is my woe...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem of the internal turmoil which arises from one living a life of servitude.