BookofDeath2

A Glorious War

As the words fall from your rosebud mouth
My face goes slack with the understanding
That I've missed my chance
if there ever even was one once at all.

No regrets, it was quite a trip - a pretty fall,
down the aisles of misunderstanding,
the double dealing
and emotional branding
the sleepless nights
and pointless fights
of which neither of us
could claim victory.

Now it's all history.

Only to be relived
with the passing of a stranger
that looks vaguely like me,
or you.

History, they say,
is written by the victors,
the losers story is diluted,
forgotten-

So perhaps I did not lose,
if I am to be the exiled king
than it shall be my song I sing;
not one of defeat
but one of retreat,

the marshaling of my hearts
soildiers to fight again another day,
someway..

On a battlefield of my choosing,
where your soldiers of glory
are simply part of my untold story,
level and even
this time.

I never meant for our faulty love
to be a struggle,
love shouldn't be.

But the fields were ripe
with lusty eyes
and dissatifsfied sighs,
their swords rattled loudly
in dusty, unused scabbards,
the call,
the challenge,
to this noble wandering heart.

I understood,
and saw what you did not-
your followers were spoiling for a fight,
plotting the conquest
even as we kissed that first night,
they wanted my blood
and nothing would suffice.

i found myself encircled,
ensorceled,
my consort of ghostly knights

were tired and abused-
but we held strong
under the blows
of judgemental spite,
of heartless words
that were sharpend swords,
running with the blood of our tears,
We fought bravely,
gloriously so,
yet when the battle was done,
and it was clear that neither side had won,
I rallied my forces as understanding
took over.

We greeted dawn with icy eyes,
shook hands and said
our goodbyes...

Tattered pennants flapping
idly in the autumn breeze.