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blazoned under worn crown-
a Knight of avarice:
sacrificing the drifter for
a more suitable foe.
his shield, riven with sorrow,
sword rusted and dull.
dust trails his feet,
and engulfs like his greed.
a battle long since abandoned
retains him, sleepless in bed.
a heart long since betrayed,
keeps him sleepwalking through morning.
his crest no longer dazzles,
under eyes who no longer gleam.
once eternal and blue as sky,
gaze now- grey as dead sea.
still eternal, as ruins.
forsaken and crumbled,
a smashed golem of pride.
ridden with pestilence,
gauntlets cover his hand-
but do not uncripple the sorrow they bare.
his soul spills on dry earth,
and is swallowed- buried, entirely.
Wes Thompson
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Wes Thompson
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