She was lost,
Or so she claimed,
In a world far to complex
For a lady to bother
With such trivial affairs as money and power.
A snake if I ever saw one.
Born under nobility,
Yet still reeking of that insatiable lust
For prominence and fortitude.
That need for power
That only the powerless lack,
The need to be known
If in notoriety alone.
Beautiful, yes,
I do not deny her that.
Her radiance was as bright
As any Angel of the Heavens;
But Angels have swords
And the ability to fall...
Her eyes flashed of emeralds
And shone with the fire of the intellectual,
And yet, somehow still retained
The frigid gaze
Of a reptile in the sun.
Watching,
Waiting,
Ready for the right time to unleash its fangs
And sink them into surprised flesh.
Her residence was the court of the king,
A constant silent fixture
In a hall of royalty and discussion.
There she stayed,
Day after day,
Watching and waiting,
Viewing the petty nobles
And their arguments over land
Lost and gained.
In those halls of stone
Was the first time I saw her
As I stood before the throne.
Just another insignificant soldier.
One of many hundreds
We stood silent as the king
Addressed us with our duties
And our dignity as men.
He said, “Brothers I bid you
Good tidings and joy.
For it is because of your sacrifices,
Your sweat and your toil,
That I remain your fathful king.
So I ask of you, my brothers,
Keep safe our homeland
And protect its people.
Fight through blood and pain,
Remain vigilant on your posts,
And if it is the will of God,
You will all receive a place
At my victory table.”
A thunder of cheers arose from our numbers
And yet I could not make out
What my own mouth was saying.
My gaze had been fixed
On this angel in the corner,
This silent goddess
Whom I knew not her name.
And as we all filed out
To do our duties as men,
I swore to myself that day.
I swore I would come back to her,
I swore I would claim her as my own,
I swore that this was the lady
The Gods had named for me
And I would make her my own.
This man is a fool.
Years went by,
I toiled for the people,
Yet constantly dreaming of her.
Still she quietly sat
In that hall of stone,
Always watching, waiting,
Yet ever silent and unmoving,
A paradox to all who viewed her.
Until that fateful day
When the king spoke of war.
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Submission Name: Hark! To The Ramparts! Pt 2
