Crusades Within

Seeing through
This oblique facade
And how could he not
When the illusion
Is one
Of his own creation
Perpetually staring back
With spent eyes

What might seem
Like an easy smile
Or days in hand
Is a hundred hooks
In the corner
Of his mouth
Dragged upwards
Every other breath
A ragged reminder
Of hollow expression

In the wastelands
Lie hidden
The sunbeam unfrozen
Opium solutions
And promises to keep
Even though
He never truly forgets
The enemy
Has always been
A windmill
Turned dragon