Without Mercy

With fair face and liquid eyes, I wait
Smoothing branch tangles out of wild red strands
Conjuring maid’s dress from milk reeds and cattails
At the edge of my dark pond, I wait
These flushed cheeks and feigned teary gaze
Belie the heart of pond pebbles beneath
Your name aflame on my bloodshot lips
Seeking sunlit sword and your wickedly noble gaze
Chasing sobs in pond shadows, you lead your mount my way
Come to me, my brave and silly soldier savior.
Falter in the marshes with tiring, weighted tread.
Soldier on, my amorous armored one for I’ll have you my way.
The day ages along with your soul
Dismounted, tangled in my hair ‘round your neck
You’ll not survive this day or perhaps you will, on my whim.
I leave you the last tendril of your soul
Now struggling, greyed knight on hobbled knees
Leave me and tell my tale, old poet
Keep your slice of soul close but speak of me to the brush holders
That fresh, foolish paladins might seek on bended knees.