Tapping on the cold mirror
of my soulless window,
you call me into the night.
Willingly, stupidly, I follow-
you pied piper of dreams,
you weaver of golden threads.
Not until I'm locked in the tower
of your bitterness prison
do I finally see
what love can do to fools.

16/11/08

Viola Grey

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fools-prison/