Again, school has begun and I am in the starting to enter the thick of it. I am taking a math class this semester and it is probably going to take up a lot of my time. Still, I am thinking of you all and poetry is so easy to throw out there.
Till next time!
No
Longer Alone
Part
1-
He
knew the horrors of battle,
As
well as the pains of feeling alone,
Terror,
agony, blood,
A
familiarity,
To
the broken man,
A
ruler of legions,
Kingdoms
and hills,
Far
and wide,
Left
to him by a father,
Brutal
and anger filled,
Leaving
a heir bitter,
Raw
with hate,
For
those in his way,
No
mercy is rendered,
No
conscience completed.
Though
if one should wake,
In
the middle of the night,
Among
the dank castle walls,
They
would hear the wails,
Of
the king,
Scarred
by the past.
Morning
comes,
He
rides abroad,
As
tired as before,
Ruthlessly
patrolling,
Dirty
streets and alleys,
He
attempts to strike with force,
A
filthy wretch, back turned,
The
cloak is torn to reveal…
Dark
hair,
Beautiful
brows,
Gleaming
eyes,
Something
pure and free,
Taken
aback by such a rare sight,
In
a land of turmoil,
He
withdraws his hand of wrath,
Staring
at something deep,
That
called in winter months.
Standing
there a woman,
Consumed
by knowledge of good.
Down go the walls in a moment,
Crashing
in on themselves,
The
tender voice shatters him,
With
gentle word, she whispers,
Moving
gracefully away.
In
another moment,
He
rides on,
Choking
on the inside,
Bitterness
suffocating again,
Only
to be hammered down,
The
thought of her.
Part
2-
He
struggles,
To
regain former strength,
Yet
it is like climbing,
A
sheer wall,
He
is drowning, pretending, gasping,
Sitting
alone watching her face.
She
has disappeared from the docks,
The
streets and roads,
At
night he rides quietly away,
To
search,
Searching
for soul and for her,
For
life encrusted with joy,
Not
gems.
Merciful,
Lord!
Help
him!
One
so torn,
So
broken,
Heart
like stone,
Emotions
like glass,
Eyes
dart in desperation,
Never
to focus,
Unless
in rage.
Part
3-
Ripping
wind,
Harsh
environment,
Mirror
of the man’s soul,
In
a ravine,
Covered
with snow,
The
ruler sits with men,
Lost
in the blizzard,
Crying
for help,
Though
he makes no sound,
What
is the use?
He
is ready to die,
How
much better than living?
He
accepts it with closed eyes,
Ready
for the emptiness to end.
Just
then, they hear a noise,
Music
to hear,
Light
bursts forth,
Triumphant
and glowing,
Sheep
farmers appear,
Yet
that is not what the dark ruler sees,
His
face melts,
As
does the ice beneath her feet.
No
more grimaced expression,
Does
he bare,
Relief
and relaxed lines,
Harsh
and rough complexion,
Flee
from his appearance.
Men
and order,
Saved
and restored,
Only,
the one truly saved,
Trembles
when he sees her,
What
to say, what to do?
Her
she is,
A
blameless woman,
Confident
in gaze,
Happy
to see them,
Happy
to see him!
Daughter
of a shepherd,
Goddess
of fairness,
He
is softened,
Welcomed
into a warm home,
Brought
to table,
Brought
to life.
Cameo H.
Copyright of the poem is MINE.
