Death Of A Warrior
With steely cold fingers he creeps into my mind,
Bringing darkness and thoughts of new despair.
Reminding me of loneliness and love I cant find,
Whispering lies and my heart taste's his ware,
Weary arms embrace his return, this not his first,
His bed awaits him I find, having left it made,
As if knowing of his coming, an unwanted curse,
He appears and his presence causes hope to fade.
I look at him, his eyes dark,lifeless in his head,
His glare sends fear shuddering through me,
I am aware others who embraced him are dead,
Clouding thier eyes to what sets them free.
He smiles, teeth a deep yellow, rotted to the gum,
Drool drips from his lips, a foul odor is there,
A hideous chuckle rises, we know why he's come,
To take me to him, adding a trophy for his lair.
Straining within me to stand up, flee from this beast,
His evil intent no mystery, I know his desires,
To take me from my glorious king, our wedding feast,
And carry me screaming down to his eternal fires.
I was a fearless warrior once, clothed in spotless white,
The enemy knew my king, and feared his name,
Bravely I fought on the line,keeping the prize in sight,
But to fierce became the war, I retreated in shame.
Wounds from battles past, with infection now seeping
He uses my weakness, and teases that I failed,
If I but reach the sword left me, intrusted to my keeping,
But the luster of my armor and shield have paled.
Where are you my king I shout,In desperation I cried
Rescue me from this evil, my backs against a wall.
A voice resounds loudly, many times have I tried,
So I die giving little, to a King who gave all.
Poetry by Kathryn Walsh
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Written on 2006-07-16 at 10:37
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