On the advent of a good ending

Vanquished threats pierced on stone

Shriveled fingers, broken bones

Plundered people robbed of gold

Warriors risen, poets wrote

With blotchy ink, tinted red

Stained with gold

When the story is written

When the questions answered

When the last step is taken

By the ballet dancer

The trumpet blared

The thunder screamed

You’ve achieved the key

Onto your dreams

So

Where can you hide?

Without a reason to run?

Your fear lost reason

Now that you’ve won

So invent a reality

That increases the gravity

Sucks us to earth

Exposes depravity

You’d rather, gladly be

Happily, fastening

To hunker down again

For a human beings worst enemy

Is the monster’s feast

Called dread