Knight

Policar, 1991.

Dedicated to a man who ought to know who he is...
...but probably doesn't.

The knight, alone and bloody, stands
On a muddy hill in wartorn lands.
One lies, drinking blood in silence;
One stands, pondering the sky.

The mystery so deep he touches
Covers her as she approaches,
Crooning "Come, the battle's done,
Now shed your steel and let us fly."

With more than words of love between them
On the hill where none have seen them
Since, she coaxes shell of metal
From his arms and legs and chest.

Last uncovered is his face,
And soon to follow, their embrace;
Defying death so near, he lives
A night's contentment (one) and rest.

The morning finds the blade she held
Still fresh with blood his flesh expelled;
Their eyes, hers cold and his unknowing,
Trade question/answer to his "Why?"

But now this lone and bloody knight,
Freed of his steel, can dream of flight.
His scars heal now, while wings are growing.
Soon, above her blade he'll fly.

And mysteries of reddened skies
He solves when naked, free, wings spread,
And freed of steel before his eyes
He sees more than the bloody dead.

He hears more than his lonely cries;
He hears the song of life, instead.