Sta’ilth Ja’artem

He felt a thousand years or more old,

But he looked no more thirty, be told.

And even when he smiled, his eyes were sad.

He saw what they could not instead.

With charm and eloquence, you give them the world.

With wit and humour, her heart is awhirl.

With light-hearted laughter, he though he dared hope,

That perhaps there was sunshine, from darkness to grope.

But it was facade, a lie and a joke,

Wounds and dark memories, once again did awoke.

And a heart did lie bleeding, all semblance is lost,

Of the man that he could be but such is the cost.

He took up the sword, since rusted unused,

Burnished it silver as the day it first hewed.

He hoisted the shield of leather and mithril,

Donned the armour of adamantium steel.

He went to the place and prayed his last two,

To a God who had tested him and raised his state too.

There were tears in eyes that never shed before,

Copious and unending, that burst from the core.

There were wounds in his heart so torn and shattered,

That bled dry before battle when once love unfettered.

The prayer that came out was of such pain and despair.

He turned to the heavens, said, “I accept this, my share.”

He took a deep breath and shut it away deep inside.

Where no one would find it, his heart had just died.

His eyes shone bright green and burned the tears away.

Time to do duty and honour and pray for death today.

He sent his soul on a journey to a different time and place,

And though she could not see him, she knew his scent and trace.

He put his arms around her and said a last goodbye.

Kissed her forehead gently: he knew she wanted to cry.

He was back in his world, armoured and unbroken.

He was strong at the forefront, the soul an empty token.

“My Lord, my liege, thy armies await thee.

The hosts are assembled, thy soldiers are ready.”

And the Tyregii have gone to war again,

To fight God’s enemies despite his pain.

To fight for the one he loved who remembered him not.

To die for a God whose embrace he sought.

And all he had when the Angel of Death took his soul,

Was a vision of her, hair framed her face, he was whole.

And the Veils were parted and he saw the Garden before.

For the first time in his life, he was not alone anymore.

Harlequin