Warrior at Spillwords.com



written by: Natalia Aeschliman



I never write about him
I speak in poetry to him
Sounds cocky,
But I do.
His being is poetry alone
His softness, his movements
His thin lips full of excitement
His strong soul
Intertwined in mine
And if only for a moment
Breathing is perfect unity
He has seen the darkness
And conquered it with his light
as a gentle warrior
I stood by him
Awaiting his blossoming
Finding his path
Maybe it was that darkness
Acting like a magnet that
Locked us together
Like magma and stone
A river of love
Once again
Spilling into the vast ocean
Of hope
Because hope
Kept us together
My blue eyed warrior,
Those gentle eyes
Has witnessed wars
But yet
saw light and beauty
If only for a moment
As his soul awakened
After dormant years
Came back home to me.
His apocalypse was found
As many magazines dropped
Dripping with lost tears
That Time forgot.
Broken, torn,
Only to be born again
In light
In strength.
Because he is poetry
All on his own.

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