Awoken

Fiction is full,

tainted is fed,

inside dark to

feed the dead.

A want comes,

heart hungers,

a shelter from

one to another.

From within I

now a frozen

child broken a

home is stolen.

Barbs cover it,

comfort always

is bent by us a

deceit dismays.

I still just child

reach to touch

things not real

full of my love.

Reach me ask

I do of a coffin

to allow a light

not seen often.

My aging soul

finds it tragic

in youth belief

I had of magic.

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