Poetry

The Downfall

You always took pride is being made of stone,
A heart buried so deeply within the barricades,
Others often contemplated its very existence.
You loved to confuse them, keep them guessing.

You wore your unnerving apathy on your sleeve,
And hung the people you broke on your chest,
Like medals from a war you orchestrated for fun.
Sheer invincibility was intoxicating you blind.

But you realized too late it that people break,
Like all fragile things that sit too close to the edge.
A million intangible triggers can be named,
But not one to blame your tragic downfall on.

Perhaps your frigidness, alternating with passion,
The heat you locked up within those tall walls,
Weathered down your heart to nothingness.
It feels a little too lonely at the top, doesn't it?

You look up at the rumbling storm clouds,
And you can feel the first rains in your eyes.
The weather shelters you with camouflage now,
To give you a chance to let your mask slip.