December 11th, 2008

drabble fairy

Poem: The Champion

He stood there,
a champion in silver and red,
with a sword of power
few could stand against.
but knew he had met his match.

He had faced creatures
dark in the night,
a dragon once,
even the gleeful blackness
hidden deep inside of his own heart,
and come through it all,
scratched and battered,
but whole,
unafraid to face the day
or ask for quarter.

He looked at her
as she ran towards him,
petite, delicate,
happy in the morning
as she smiled a bright greeting his way,
the wind dancing in her hair,
the sunlight dancing in her blue-gray eyes,
and he knew the one thing
that could surely drop him to his knees,
make him beg for mercy
would be tears in those eyes,
caused by his own hand.

Monsters were easy --
facing the woman he loved
when he knew he was wrong
was a whole other story.
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