With the dawn in retreat
as the sun kissed her skin,
the soldier of love
spoke of conflict within.
Of songs discontented
mistaken in tune,
a universe void
of a sun for her moon.
Her blood turned to acid
and burned through her eyes,
intending to counter
her lover’s goodbyes.
She twisted her voice
as her feelings entwined
with emotional serpents
of the constricting kind.
Then armoured her heart
for revenge at all cost,
knowing all’s not for winning
the battle was lost.
His head fell in pity
as his hands cupped her face
unhanding the sword
that was free of disgrace
As warring hearts suffer
we witness the fall
of armies of lovers
no victory to call.
Painting: “Knight’s Treasure” Alan Ayers, original artwork, 2006.