Earrings, hair pins,
one by one the pieces fall away.
My armor turns to glass.
Cracking are the ramparts,
Thunder down the walls.
The space beyond is vast...
You wander lustily down the pathways,
spurning every spoil, a stone faced king.
All the while seeing ghosts.
The spirits call you Conqueror, a being most supreme.
You shun every tribute as common things,
they hardly gleam as specters do.
On you charge, beyond my boundaries,
back to your golden haunted house as you came,
Alone.
Denying joy in new found riches,
they all are left with me.
I batten down the hatches,
give life to crumbled walls.
Somewhere below echos, a hollow laugh.
This land was always mine,
hounded king, never yours by half.
The armor closes, the visage assembled,
my pieces all in place.
Your battle not the last of many,
not the first to covet this place.
As always and forever more,
This Guardian stills walks strong.
Victory by Dakota Farley
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