There once was a mage named Stella
Who looked just like Cinderella;
She sang with the faeries
And ate lots of berries
Till she was big as a fella!

So brave and yet so humble,
Carries a sword of might.
A cold death glow around him,
Yet gentle, my sweet knight.

His mind is indeed cloudy
Of memories from past.
Hoping he will find his way
And be at peace at last.

He’s different from the others
As if he’s not from here.
He’s honest and he’s loyal.
Intentions are quite clear.

Refers me as “My lady”
A true sir always should.
And every waking hour
I’d spend with him, I would.

I’ve seen him only briefly,
And as we part each night.
Tell him with a gentle voice:
“Sweet dreams, my sweet death knight.”

This cruel winter wind
Is like a thousand daggers
Piercing through my skin

I never once dreamt of you
Never saw you in my mind.
Never think of you and say:
“I must have been so blind”

Never miss your gentle words
Never miss those long soft hours.
Never wonder would've been
Without those red flowers.

Never have an ounce of hate
For a love that’s gone blazing.
Never think of you and say:
"Oh he was amazing!"

Never had a dream of you
Never had to unearth it.
Never think of you my dear,
You are just not worth it.

You really where a fool to think
That I believed the words you said.
I think back now and laugh out loud,
You where the foolish one instead.

You showered me with lovely gifts
And gently played with my blonde curls,
But you must be a fool to think
That I'm one of your little girls.

And now I think of all those hours
I spent with you for nothing,
Cause you are just a fool my friend
To believe that you are something.

If only you weren’t a fool dear
You would know how much you saved me,
By disappearing from my life;
How so happy you have made me!

Does a poem have to rhyme?
I always wonder
I wonder if the words have to make sense
I wonder and I ponder.
Oh there I go again!
“Just stop rhyming it will come to you!”
The voice in my head speaks out loud.

Is poetry without rhyme more respected?
I always ask this
I ask myself, if the words need to blend.
I ask with each task.
Oh stop it, will you!
“Just bare your deepest feelings on paper”
The voice was a friendly one indeed.

You sit in front from me each day,
And look at me as if I’m gold.
I wonder If you’ll look at me like this when we grow old.