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my shining-knight's armor had rusted
I stood in vigilance waiting for a summer
that would never come.
Braved the blizzards and snowdrifts
until my armor fell to bits off my body.

It was only after I had molted
and walked into the blackest unseelie night
that I found flowers waiting to bloom.

and even though the snow fell, still
I tended those seeds until they burst into color
more vibrant than I had ever seen.
swaths of shade and tint put over pale petals.
and it was good.

but even beauty must go through seasons,
winter went through spring, and came out as fall,
and suddenly the snowdrifts and blizzards came calling.
Again.

the flurries piled up against the flowers,
until only the blue of tears could be seen.
So I did my best to scoop away the snow
with my bare hands, but the deep shade had stained the flower.

Still, though, the blossom was resilient,
staying alive and colorful
where other flowers would wilt,
and though that shade of blue can still be seen,
the other pigments irridesce through.

and so I, knight-turned-makeshift-gardener,
will don my armor again,
and sentinel until the flower comes out of winter on the other side.

though on this occasion, I will make my make my armor from the chroma of that flower,
because my mistake the first time was this:
Color doesn't rust like steel.