what good am I
if I can’t fight and die
as the champion
of light
without sword
without shield
bared handed
on my knees
praying in the dirt
shifting armor
falling from my limbs
clanking against
itself in the piles
around my legs
useless on my arms
useless on the ground
wasted either way
as leather rots away
my hands buried in the mud
sleepless to the touch
earth swallows me with dust
breaks me with her lust
as I glance up through the rain
see the gift of beauty
distorted through the raindrops
falling through my eyelashes
dripping in my eyes
clouding my vision
as they wipe away
the muddy entrails
of yesterday
staining my cheeks
with blood-black streaks
and visions of clashing blades
nestling my lungs
testing my faith
as I seek wisdom
twisted straight
the sword, the blade
the riddle made
whispered words
hammer bitten
steel fades
with time
as does all rhyme
the words wisping
softly wind-borne
carried away
the only rhyme
I’ve ever known
I will not let die
cold and alone
I’ll take with me
where-ever I may
I look up to the riddle
driven deep into the earth
my eyes begging forgiveness
forsaken in my worthless
memory, I pick up the blade
lay down the blade
and gaze upon the pretty face
emblazened on the hilt
an angel, wings aloft
carrying my life
my heart my soul
in her blessed hands
and still I search
for you amidst
invisible walls
and broken memories
simple things I cannot
see, but feel them repel
me every day
wandering the seemingly
endless maze
waiting patiently
to free your heart
and bask in your
radiant gaze