Regrets Poem by Pensive Phoenix

Do you know how you wound, deep into my heart?
That no melody plays like it did at the start,
You don’t need your sharp axe or your sword in scabbard,
Your words deliver the intent equally as hard,
If only you would stand uncloaked as I am,
No armour on back, no shield in thy hand,
For I cannot take you with your army and ram,
You will have to conquer me here as I am,
I won’t hide behind the mask of deceit,
I would rather go down in the glory of defeat.

But alas with a pen in hand what good can I do?
And when night-time is due,
We will retire with our thoughts,
And I will be the one, unhappy we fought.