the breath around me
hangs thick with battle-sweat
the weather of weapons
Only just begun
I, the once stout-hearted,
folded now into a prayer’s bend
my forfeit: the evaporated squeak
a labyrinth of retreat
nestled into my cheek
Whilom, I lusted love
ever defeated, desolation was
the silver bell consolation
this pattern is now brazen
this field has only grown casualty
though I felt the fray as my design,
I never had an option to fight
go, ask the egg,
why the need
of armor.
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