Trudge

With tired feet
I walked along
Scraping my feet wearily
Upon the dusty, well worn path

Sapped of my will
I allowed myself to simply exist
One foot followed the other
And movement, it just happened

I had grown tired, so very weary
Day after day, guard up
Night after night, armor drawn
And in the morn, it began again

The dust of constant fighting
Now coated every part of me
Inside, I was gritty and vulnerable
Outside, I was sharp-edged and angry

I was always cold
All warmth in me was banked by wrath
My body was strong
An eternal war had made me so

I wanted so much to be myself
What was I willing to sacrifice
To obtain my soul
Who would let me be who I was?

I was guardian
Beastial hound of Herne
Follower of the Hunt
And fallen queen of a lost people

All of this
Was round my heart
With a simple blink
As I lifted my head

I looked upon my road
It stretched on into infinity
I took a rattling, weary breath
And with a sigh, began to once again, trudge onward