My tears glint in the sun like drops of dew
bloodstained by your leaving.
Forgive me for tainting thus
this world you love;
I should know by now it has to be—
Life is not life in the shadow of a sun-stark world.
Perhaps it was folly—
yes, it was—on my part,
In battle I cannot always be
your sanctifying shield.
Your double-edged blade balances, gleaming,
atop a weathered hilt,
And I can see our faces mirrored in each side,
one beside the other as always.
Long nights have I polished your armor with
the rags of my devotion,
Hoping the glint of iron will be mirage enough to dazzle enemy eyes
and keep you safe.
You’ve always yearned for this quest, have you not?
Go forth, therefore, and seek what I cannot give.
Your warhorse snorts plumes of impatience into the wintry air;
you’re ready for battle and must return
With your shield, not on it.
It’s against custom and religion so
I mustn’t plead, but—
Come back to me.
"Angreek87"
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