Monday, November 5, 2012

My face is painted

My face is painted

My face is painted, painted for you.  Leather polished  the tarnish scrubbed rubbed away, dirt brushed from my tunic, buckles shined to a mirror finish to honor you. 

I wait; wait for you and your leagues. I fear not, death does not render my flesh soft trembling weak from fear,  I embrace death the challenge to this flesh.  I’ve killed in battle and on the streets,  Death is with me, a dear close friend.  

We will dance,  the dance of death; my sword against yours; shield against shield.  This is my being, join me, I long for your close embrace.

I wish you luck,  for one of us will die in the glory of battle this day of death.

From the Ramblings.

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