I stand facing you,
shadowed (dust)
conquers my appearance.
My armour lay at my heels,
My shield thrown wayward,
in the wind,
And my sword lies buried
deeper than Excalibur.
I spread my arms
in awe.
Right before I close
my eyes (to the presence
of the sky)
I see you standing in your armour,
shield on guard,
and sword in hilt.
The light blinds me,
but not enough to cry.
Wax Poetic 