another foe revealed... another one to now lay vanquished at his feet. his garments reek of battle and his armor is weighed and worn. his sword hand feels of stone from holding it so tight and his blade... strewn in dried blood. he looks stoically upon the field that is now littered with the bodies of his enemies. creatures he has fought in rage and vengeance from all the pain they have wrought against all that he has loved. as the dust of war thickens the air, he can both feel and hear the crackling of dry earth beneath his feet as he walks slowly in sacred contemplation. the air splits in half for him... as if it were making way for one that has won a great battle. he whispers songs of love and the lowliness of kingship... how these are forever his. he sings them as a hush and a stillness in the chaos... a quiet in the heavens as the sun begins to shine in the clearing. to sheath his sword or not to sheath becomes his question. for what awaits on the horizon is always beautiful... but his hand feels of stone. he looks up to his Lord and says "alas... another beautiful day"... he thinks of her once more... this beauty to his beast...
~moses apollo
No comments:
Post a Comment