You are Made of Magic

Rest, rest your weary head.
The day is long and never ends.
Mornings filled with dread,
But if you sleep then dream,
Of places old and magic.
Go, dear one, to the place of dragons.
The waking world is cold and cruel,
people in it lie.
Sleep and dream of fantastic things
Where pterasaurs still fly.
There you’re free of worldly care
To play in fields of flowers.
Yes there you can wile away the hours
Sleep and dream of happy things,
forget for now the misery,
for there Lady Aldra sings,
That you are filled with magic!

The Second Battle

The mist covers the valley
The warrior king clad in armour
blue leather streaks of silver
The crest on his chest, A dark Z
Zandikor, the eternal light
The horses whinied, the skys violet
Thick with ash of war and pain
Her, in black leather, hair pinned
Sweet scent of cherry blossom on wind
The battle maiden, mistress of war
“it begins” deep guttral his voice
a suprise to even he, she nods
“Another nightmare Koraki?”
Tightens her gauntlets and readies the bow
Is it? He wonders silent, bodies all around
“War, constant in my head I fight.”
“War, Koraki, it is real. We both fight.”
“Where are you? With me?”
She shoots, her target struck in the heart

“Waste no time, Damien, the day draws.”


“Sora?!” She runs into the fray

Sora the day draws and night ends
Lady of shadows my life I spend
Seeking your soul’s mortal shell
If you are out there say you are well
Here I am waiting, waiting Aniya
My troubled moon find me soon

In Every Dream

They call me Kim Soo Ah
Friends call me Kimmy
She smiled bright with cherub glow
I handed her fallen books
Blushed with nerves I stole away
From her radiance
I lamented my parting so
Describing her emery hair
To shop keep as being a violent sea
Of dark obsidian streaked
With natural ebony browns
Her curls pinned behind doll like ears
Eyes of honey brown cinnamon
I cursed my anxious shy nature
Shop Keep laughed and says to me
Not all men are winners see
Yet she after me pursued
To my utmost astonishment
And traded numbers
She texted later to my good fortune
To ask to dine that night with me
So out we go but before
I show up at Soo Ah’s door
Dressed in lovely white sun gown
She bids me in to wait
She tend her make up, I sit down
On tapes I see a name
“Sorah’s Don’t Touch”
So Rah? Soo Ah? Or is this Sora?
I call to her and ask
Who is Sorah?
Those tapes are a friend’s.
She pops one in and I watch
The girl dressed in vibrant Han Bok
sings a most  lovely melody
The friend filming claps at end
“Fantastic Sora, beautiful as always.”
She cheers, I shut it off and sigh
So realistic, I mutter, every detail
The apartment, the campus, the store
But Sora, I am dreaming, and it’s you again
Can I not escape the lady of mist?
Will these visions never end?
She sees my sad smile
Oh, then it’s you, Damien?
That, Damien, where are you
Kentucky fair one, asleep
And where, Anika, are you?
Looking for you in every dream

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Won’t Forget

My dreams valid vivid and true
The only part that mattered: you
In stylish gothic fashion worn
Into my arms without a lick of scorn
“I feel as if I remember, Pulled.”
Ah dear Sora don’t be fooled
My hand on hers we chat away
And in dingy motel bar pass the day
Her smile a merlot as she says not to go
I kiss her in passion wishing it not so
Aye Sora I’d stay forever in your gaze
With hope it’s not i dragging down you days
Our parting swift as did we met
I won’t forget my Anika Sora Sweet

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What Dream?

I can’t shake the vision
Her face, the angles, curves
Slender fingers ice cold
The cherry blossom scent wafts
And I staring at her, voiceless
My lady of shadows?
No, for the words from her lips
Revealed her, though at first?
Not even Mars called out “My Damien?”
Never were that a phrase from her
Though Manda once yet she…
Would have no need to be sorry…
Sorry? For what? Why do I feel this
Braced as a man who tastes agonies kiss
I can’t keep seeing her
Yesterday after I woke I messaged Mars
Forgiveness, I gave it. Wrong person
I dreamt the dream again
Her eyes dark, pleading
“I’m sorry.” How do I reply?
Simply repeat that I try?
The poem I wrote for Anika
For the lady of dreams
‘I hold you prisoner in my mind’
It hits, “I am trying to let you go to him.”
I dreamt of another the day prior
As well also offered my forgiveness
Right before I found myself with her
Today I wake from repeated vision
Here you are, the phrase from her
“My Damien?” Like a question
And I look here, and you once more
How we both suffer agony
You for him… me for life itself


I wrote this as a reply to a comment about 21 days ago, realised I unintentionally wrote yet another poem. Poor girl no wonder I confuse her so.

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by Damien Knight

Her slender hands ice on my face
Framing me, cradeling she whispers
“Damien? My Damien?” I find i’m voiceless
No, no I try to say, her eyes burn
Deep in my soul, the void
Her hair rolls as waves
In the stormy seas of dreams
“Sora?” my voice cracks finally
Where was this place
This house of endless memories
Not my own, she sighs, “I’m Sorry.”
“You know I’m trying here, really!”
My heart skips a beat in anxious agony
It’s not me, why is she here again?
Yet I want to pull her close
Place a hand over hers, stare at her face
The curve of her smile
“I am trying to let you go to him.”
And all she can say is “sorry?”

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