A poem on loss, written in Feb

Rapunzels tower...

these nights are long and lonely
as I turn about in bed
fairy-tales and non fiction
tumble about my head

they, swirling with the dust
Sandman poured inside my eyes,
confuse the lands of dream and wake
and terrorize my mind

Have you walked between the lands
of the dreaming and the wake
let me share a story
of the ways a heart can break

For my father was my uncle
and my uncle was my friend
and my friend built me a tower
and he stood gaurd to defend

with his sword of truth and power
shield of faith and feet of peace
and my hair grew like rapunzel
and he faught against the prince

but on braids of golden lies
a princely pig ascended up
and we made ourselves a castle
though the man below warned stop

and then life went a changing
for none can command it stay
and the princes teeth were sharpened
until his wolfish fangs gave way

buthe the man weapons had broken
and his feet crumbled to dust
and he saw the wolf attacking
and confused, he did not run

but tore apart the tower
brick by brick and stone by stone
and turned against the princess
and cut her hair that shone

her heart, broken by two that day
her heart it seared and burned
but she picked herself back up again
picked herself back up and learned

that the rock to build a towr apon,
the son of god, is christ
no man nor prince could save her
from the winds of toil and strife

and the tower that would protect her
is the one she works to build
and the weapons she can rely on
are the ones she herself wields