For The Sword

At last the battle had come, built up by brandished weapons and insulting screams. Words of conflict into violence, lines on a map into strategic objectives, dreams of glory into broken bodies.
Through the chaos of clashing irons I emerged mostly intact, a nasty gash to my elbow my only hindrance.
I was among the last of my legion, our commander slain by arrows and most of the others slaughtered in the confusion of voided leadership. The air smelled of blood and heat, lingering sour on even the driest spots of my exposed skin.
A hundred metres up the valley was a visible gang of reinforcements, their reinforcements. Our cause was now surely lost, our kingdom undefended and soon at the unkind mercy of these brutal attackers. I thought to flee, escape into the thin trees and hide, or maybe even surrender, hope for the good fortune that unexpected mercy would signify.
My thoughts demanded flight from conflict, but my feet and hands, my heart, could not be removed from this spot of ground. Behind me I saw the few remaining shredded members of my legion also fixed in position. I howled in delight, for in this defeat I found victory: not for the cause or for our kingdom, but for the sword.

Carry Me Away

One of those low days I guess
Drifting through the thoughts you fight
The things you want most
but cannot have
Daydreaming on a different place
A different universe
Where a kiss is all you need
Bringing meaning to the moment
And you exhale
then breathe it in again
A perfect smile looking back at you
Just the image in your mind
Is enough to carry you away

The Evening Rises

Sitting outside at night in my tired worn skin, the moonlight shining through the branches of the backyard trees. There's a whistling in the air, like a miniature train rolling along the wooden fences. The scurrying of squirrels, raccoons and other evening shadow creatures is heard in the next yard over. I sip on an ale, tingling my tounge and warming my skin. There's a chilling breeze waltzing with the flowers of my garden, forgotten by the recent winter chills. My eyes are old but this night is young, youthful with energy, promise and potential. Within it I am again a child.

Like A Painted Window

Like a painted window
the colours of your eyes
bring light and beauty
into my world

Opening the latch
into your arms
A soft place where pillows
are rock-hard ruffians
by generous comparison

When the sun peaks over
the shadows of rain clouds
it does so only
to see your smile
and ask it for beauty tips

Like a painted window
touched by an expert brush
You are the true masterpiece
bringing colour and light
into the world

I've Wandered Through Alleys

I've wandered through alleys
the forgotten roads of old neighbourhoods
Shaken hands with the ghosts
sitting on lawn chairs by the back doors
I've seen my reflection through the windows
my features like a blade with every glance
The ghosts, they chuckle and grin
connecting and swallowing endless beer cans
Rainy days, a common companion
a sad slippery friend with benefits
These alleys became so familiar to me
during the dark afternoons of my life
The laughter of ghosts still ringing my ears
but my reflection shines no longer in their windows