Poem: At Least It Rhymes

The dream has flown away from me,
and I am falling down.
My dream is gone and I can’t see,
beyond my regal crown.
The ships are sailing into port,
but none may leave the isle.
The ships sail in, but I’m in court;
I cannot leave my trial.
All things bereft are bereft still,
but now I am to blame;
All things I lost, all but my will,
and still I own my name.

These words, they rhyme, and have meter
—I wrote them down tonight—
but meaningless when I meet her
who brings my world to light.

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