There is No Storm

 

You accept not your true self

You stepped, instead

into an guise

and bathed your limbs in bravado

the musky soap of self-deception

Don’t you know

you’re soaked in a false promise

to yourself, unrecognized?

 

Why shroud yourself in darkness,

within a cloud

of crystalized ice?

Do you not believe in yourself?

Are you afraid of the shadows?

Don’t you know

you’re cloak, soaked in fear

keeps you from paradise?

 

Shed that tattered, muscled cloak

It never truly keeps you warm.

There is no storm.

Male Nude known as Patroclus

 

photo page source

daily prompt: Cloaked

 

 

 

 

 

 

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