deepundergroundpoetry.com
In Another Castle
Leading Mario through landscapes
of pixelated woods, water and fire,
we'd feel the hours disappear
in a haze of sunset pink-orange.
We never knew it wouldn't last:
8 bit colors weren't enough
to keep our own private Bowser away
from our tiny, frail kingdom of happiness.
Darkness was coming:
days and nights of newborn screams,
curses and tears hurled at ourselves and God;
our world reduced to a diorama of lava and ash.
Many times I've looked at my parents,
mostly nervously, silently,
many times I've thought: we're the Princess
but Mario will never save us:
he's far, far away, in another castle.
of pixelated woods, water and fire,
we'd feel the hours disappear
in a haze of sunset pink-orange.
We never knew it wouldn't last:
8 bit colors weren't enough
to keep our own private Bowser away
from our tiny, frail kingdom of happiness.
Darkness was coming:
days and nights of newborn screams,
curses and tears hurled at ourselves and God;
our world reduced to a diorama of lava and ash.
Many times I've looked at my parents,
mostly nervously, silently,
many times I've thought: we're the Princess
but Mario will never save us:
he's far, far away, in another castle.
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