It was the dead of winter,
Or as close to winter as we could get.
It was January,
The wind would bite,
And my heart was weary.
It was a new year, but the past year's beating
Had taken its toll.
My lion's heart had diminished,
It had fled along with the cold.
There were gray clouds in the sky,
Rain pounding on the windows,
Along with sleep-dreary conversations with friends,
And a fog in my heart.
There were no birds,
There was no music, no orchestra,
There was no sunbeam, no moonray,
But there you were all the same.
And i looked, i stared, i memorized.
The intense hooded eyes,
The ponytailed black hair,
The almost there biker's beard,
The unsure gait,
The intimidating presence.
Committed them to memory,
So i could write about it later, much later.
You intimidated me, made me unsure,
And i was intrigued.
Here i was in a world of gray,
And a ball of darkness passes my peripheral vision.
Of course i had to know your name,
Of course i had to talk to you.
And i thought i'd be done after that.
I was awakened.
And my courage returned, albeit reluctantly.
Then we talked, and talked about fate,
About the present, the future, never the past.
I liked it that way.
How impersonal, yet intimate it was.
It was the most fun i'd had in a while,
You were the sun, the moon, the stars or
The deep darkness of space
Beneath the fading gray clouds,
I Never did find out.
After the weary heartwrenching wars,
You were the decision.
Whether i won or lost,
I barely cared, all i knew,
Was that you were the end.
And it was all that mattered.
I ended.
I ended with the thought of you,
Two conversations with you,
A smile, a wave, a "goodbye, and good luck, friend".
It was all i ever wanted, and all i ever feared.
And it was glorious.