Castles speak of dreams,
fairytales, happy endings.
Crenellated defenses,
awe-invoking majesty.
Every prince snags a princess,
gallops into sunset distance.
Moat is perpetually open,
no grievous love afflictions.
Weathering endurance;
time’s depleting counter,
fuse tickling towards detonation–
void only in idealism,
fraught in temporality.
A fleeting wish:
permanent protection.
Walls crumble within,
moat turns septic,
bugles die in detente.
Naive defenses,
internal mutiny.
Ravenous gallows
devour surrender’s symphony.
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