My Feudal Lord

​shards of glass lay scattered,                 

your hands bore gory deeds of the night,

a sinister feeling lay inside,                       

yet I chose to hold on. 

drunken revelry’ now a massacre, of     

the self and soul, both washed ashore  

words now trembled, too afraid to 

spring, chose to perish,                               

for what might befall.

the quill was an ally, now a foe,               

the ink too dry to leave an imprint now.

Amidst the surrender of self, everything 

else gave away, but                           

thoughts to rebel, still found a way.

refused to concede to a feudal lord.

Maybe they’ll liberate my broken soul,or maybe,                                                            

one day, they too shall surrender to my feudal lord. 

• Damini