An armor kept me safe and sound,
I kept a sharp sword ready.
I looked for fights far and around,
my hands were always steady
I fought to win, I fought to learn,
I fought for my own justice.
I pushed ahead, but once I turned
around I saw a dust field.
And then - a light, a muse, a soul,
like none that I had witnessed
I dropped the helmet, damn it all,
my vision almost missed it.
It shone on me and I felt warm,
my armor overheated,
a moment later it was gone
and I felt my heart beating.
I reached ahead with both my hands,
but they were holding war tools.
I threw them backwards in the sand,
I named my past "a young fool".
The soul so beautiful and young
eluded my scarred fingers,
but smiled and danced and spoke and sang
- I couldn't help but linger.
I spoke: "I never thought that you
existed in this wasteland,
your vision has me burning up
with feelings yet untasted".
You smiled and gently touched my arm,
my blood turned blazing fire,
but I would only keep you warm,
no matter my desires.
I'd give you warmth. I wouldn't ask,
but your gifts I would treasure,
and in your brilliance I'd bask
- the greatest of all pleasures.
A thread grew forward from my chest,
I didn't know what happened,
I thought it would be for the best
to gift you with it's end and
to let you know that I'd be there
- at arm's length you would have me
wherever you were, anywhere,
and hoped that you would love me.
"You are too much" you softly said.
You smiled and left forever.
My hand was holding still the thread,
but I was feeling severed.
I was alone. Without a sword.
Without a shield and armor.
The memories of you I hold
- a thread of flaming ardor.
And now I walk ahead alone,
the thread is wrapped around me,
it warms me right up to the bone
- a gem acquired sadly.