Captured! Poem by Bonaventure Onuabuchi

My armour couldn't stand their missiles anymore.
My defense is no longer whole.
The vow is murdered;
with the me of then buried.
Left is a lost ball in a high hill.
Rolling at the command of love;
and fondness from the damsels.

Never think of getting rid of;
dancing to the melodies of their love.
Even the hindsight didn't arouse a strikeback.
For the delight of dwelling on the hill
I grudged on the call to go back.
And denounced my former will.

I seeked refuge under their wings.
Request granted and got me covered,
treating me like done to a king.
Caring not that I looks tattered;
their whole they offered me to always cling.
There on their arms I realised that I'm CAPTURED.