Poem: The Direction Lord

The Direction Lord The Direction Lord was a compassMy compass(Right?)I should follow Direction LordAll the way to Amethyst Sun

• My new home

 After all, he knows why my sunsShine,RiseAnd singHis specialty is when my scars need aGauze of inescapable,Tight-fisted love He made me hisJust when I decided to be mineBut fear not,Because Direction Lord took care ofMy neurons and built a jigsaw ofOne-two-three-love-me-foreverWoven in my brain What force am I against such a man?Why would I hold back?From the Direction Lord of heartacheWhy not hug the man who held my compass ransomIn his breast pocket?The aim of my freedom was a little offI will admit that muchThe hilt of freedom was at an anglePeeking from his chestIn silver blade gloryIt screamed hello-there’s and how-could-You’s simultaneouslyPerhaps in his last moments he wasLaughing at my inability toAim But how was I to know?I wasn’t a Direction Lord. 

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