Untitled

A Poem by Cleo

I'm just wondering if this is actually any good.

he is lost
with no place but home, lonely he sits there in his room
he longed for what once was, he prayed nightly
wishing upon his god he wanted his life back
riddled with an infection,that penetrated his social collection
he wanted it gone
through an act he felt the only way, he caved
the virus had already taken hold and he had lost them
unable to comprehend the reality that wounds heal
he was isolated and alone
and without the comfort of his family
he held high regard for her,
as delicate as a lily, shes hiding
behind her hobbies she yearns for a knight
longing for endless intellect
she wants respect but, she is not getting it
her beauty projected throughout her passion of knowledge
she dreams of a white horse
fighting between love and true happiness
she carry’s on ,she feels safe
he wears on her
sarcasm runs through him like hate
he is vicious, intolerant and sour
with words sharper than glass, he will rip through you
unwelcome in his house, he will cook you alive
with harsh wit and manner
be wary of him, he fraternizes with your enemy
he was not always this way
torn by loyalty he defends like a roman worrier
intending to return home with his king
and he will
he keep the dreamer at arms length
lost in the bubble of his mind
he is selfish and unaware of the hurting
he prays in his own little way, on a road for compassion
trying to harness his magic, the hope is gone
he saw it fall apart
unable to comprehend whether he cared, he moved
taking his wonderful woman ,valiant as the day is long
she defended herself , refusing oppression
she prevailed
braver than any man, she was always right
and cleared the way for renewal