I've seen their faces in my thoughts, my dreams
Their solemn silhouettes offer no sound
Their cries, however, blare out as a scream
They call for their sceptres, robes and their crowns
Look over there, a prince of stone kneels down
While his damsel, frozen, yearns for his kiss
No magician's spell, for them, will be found
While the mage's staff seems not to exist
Open the door to the noble throne room
See the King sitting so regal and strong
And the Queen, she stands firm, beside her groom
They wait, patiently, for that which they long
They see me sit at the keyboard and scribe
Their eyes go wide each time I grasp a pen
Awaiting history to be described
Who will lose the fabled war? Who will win?
For you see, these characters and their foes
Exist not in this world of flesh and bone
But, instead, subsist in the mind of prose
Waiting, for them, to the world, to be known
((August 14th,2004))
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