Too Well Protected – a poem

When logic & proportion have lost

All meaning, the layers of armour

Gone and leaving behind little

For the hollow shell was formed

Long ago when too many tough pieces

Were added, the soul within forgotten,

A brittle covering left behind

And later too easily broken.


What worlds of nighted depths dream

Behind minds sore with sickness?

Armour encapsulated bodies dry

Hulk inside their shroud coverings

And whisper redundant hopes

For worlds where others held scope

Of surcease more than transient,

Yet tis a dark boon never relevant.


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