To Fix the Broken Ones

But the glittering shards of busted

glass blind you to the fact that your

heroics died on your shield years ago.

Now as you stand in front of that dragon

with a rusty sword and blood-stained

armor, the dragon’s venom-filled fangs

sunk in your throat as its fire tongue torch

your lips you think,

“Maybe she would have been better off

locked away in her lonely tower far from me.”

Still, scorched skin and pierced hearts aside

I would joust all my honor and glory right off a

cliff into hell if it meant you still loved me

in the morning.