The Summit

It's lonely sometimes,
being with my mind.
It speaks in parables
of lost kingdoms and miracles.
Looking to stroll
with another sentient soul.
That sudden yearning
for the alive and discerning,
for friendly duels,
and the dreamy jewels
of his eyes enchanter,
playing me like a cantor.
To the childlike presence
in its valiant essence.
I protect the flames
in this waiting game.
And I burn and burn.
When will they learn?
Its lonely. Sometimes.