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.
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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