Warrior’s Love
I will take
Blows from the unseen foe
Armor blurring black gray in the exchange
Just to defend
My love for you
My quest is immortal
My vessel is not
I will keep on
Fighting for your love
Until I fall
On your battlefield
Cut bloodied black and blue bruised
Breastplate cleaved
I will fight to be back
In your arms
Cutting down the innumerable enemy
With a single arm
And if they succeed
In bringing me down
Dumping me on a heap of the bodies of the slain
Covering me with the soil of my mother
I will crawl
From the grave
Cadaverous skeletal
Pieces or armor still hanging
And reappear at your bedroom window
With the moon silhouetting my ghastly form
And reclaim what is
Rightfully mine
For it is only with you
The object of my fight quest love
That I will be reborn
Re-formed
Oh Goddess mine.
Vs.
Runner
Creepy isn’t it?
Who would listen to this twit?
Where in this day of quick minute
Cavaliers like him won’t stand a whit
If I were him I would split
Before she thinks of the next hit
Upon seeing a large bit
The latter hook up would become un-knit
Call me a pessimist for the slit
What you see is what you git.
Filed under: Behavior, Existentialist Poetry, Philosophy, Poetry, Psychology, Rebutting Poetry, death, humor, love, lovers, relationships
I believe I would rather spend time with both at the pub than either on a battlefield. Unless, of course, I could manipulate them into being meat-shields when I quest to slay the dragon.
Actually, come to think of it, it sounds a bit like my second marriage . . . Loki must have had god duty that season . . .
Thanks for a moment of sanity. I look in every now and again – have yet to be disappointed or bored.
Bitter Hermit
Really, huh? You’ve got taste.
I’ll take the Warrior any day over the Runner ‘tween twit and git
There is no truer love than laying your life down for another.
And the most difficult quest for most humans, but the quest is worth venturing for.