requiem for the medeaval soul
we say that we are weavers
we take the loose threads of our lives
and mold them into a tapestry
of pretty faces and vibrant colors
to display to others - its perfection to be admired
but we are really blacksmiths
the tapestry of our craft being armor
made up of words, facades and appearances
which we wrap around ourselves
as protection from whom we really are
and to hide the secret fact
that we are living in captivity
afraid to let others in
terrified to let our true selves out
sashay