"breastplate" poems
Clothe yourself in the full armor of God
and be able to withstand the Devil’s schemes;
know that he’s only the father of lies,
looking to destroy your earthly dreams.
Cover yourself with Christ’s Breastplate
of Righteousness and protect your torn heart;
your essence has been purchased for His Kingdom,
meaning that you’re meant… to be set apart.
Gird your waist with the Belt of Truth
and stand firm with integrity and honesty;
don’t allow your flesh’s nature to interfere
with conditions that you need observe and see.
Shod your feet with the Gospel’s peace;
keep from searching for earthly trouble;
instead congregate with the Body of Christ
and focus on your faith becoming redoubled.
The ongoing battle is not with flesh and blood;
wield Faith’s Shield to quench life’s fiery darts.
Remember that the wiles of Satan are limited!
So outmaneuver him with your spiritual smarts.
Put on your Helmet of Salvation,
for the battles are within one’s mind.
Allow the Divine knowledge of The Word
to resonate with your spirit and find…
yourself continually praying in the spirit
and with understanding on all occasions.
Be alert to His transformational messages,
for upholding Godly principles and persuasions.
Resist the Devil now and he will flee;
endeavor to thwart the enemy’s attack;
be strong in the Lord with power of His might;
promises of victory have been already stacked.
For we don’t wage war with human methods and plans.
We use mighty weapons to knock down evil strongholds
and breakdown every proud argument that keeps people
from knowing God… as His Kingdom, continues to unfold.
.
.
.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Eph 2:2, 6:10-20; 1 Thes 5:5-8; Joel 2:12-13; Rom 4:5;
Jam 4:7; 2 Cor 10:3-5
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.amazon.com/Reaching-Towards-His-Unbounded-Glory/dp/1419650513/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie;=UTF8&qid;=1388058560&sr;=1-1&keywords;=reaching+towards+his+unbounded+glory
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 10:59 AM UTC
Remember, that chaos first was a primordial deity,
Chaos; the nothingness from which all else sprang
headfirst and heartfelt,
half-naked and handsome,
hook, line and... halibut.
All of this,
every measurable moment,
every particle,
every object set forth in motion
sprang from a void so harmoniously
as if the absence of everything was kissed
sudden
by the presence of something.
Often depicted with wings, a bow, and a quiver of arrows,
Cupid, son of Venus - goddess of love,
son of Mercury - god of trade,
his story,
almost identical in Greek and in Roman
mythology,
his story, about a couple of gods
who seem so inherently human by nature,
jolted by jealousy,
dumbstruck by beauty,
hellbent on immortality,
his story has been hallmarked
as red hot velvet rose petal fine wine
and symmetrical hearts.
Wrapped in tin foil red ribbons
bitter-sweetly sugarcoated
dipped in thin layer of chocolate
taste-tested and lover approved.
Remember that scene in Hook
where Tinkerbell leaves her footprints on Peter's chest,
well that's you and that's me--
touch me where my heart beats
because I don't ever wanna be a lost boy.
I wanna grow up like a good bedtime story
with morals
and purpose,
I wanna have meaning.
You might say that Cupid found himself.
You might say that Psyche found her soul.
You might say that Tinkerbell was just faking it--
with the clapping.
Truth is, we can never know the whole story--
the complete truth.
Problem is, we think we can
and act like we do.
So the only time we mean what we say
is the first time we say it,
every utterance thereafter is just an attempt
at recreating a moment.
I love you
is a paraphrase
that deserves three separate ellipses
because there's a lot left unsaid.
I (distinctively remember shadow-boxing with)
love (against a star-dotted sky anchored to a
moonlight so vibrant it can only be compared to)
you (and your tidal waves).
And that's where I fell
headfirst and handsome.
I (was punched-drunk by a kiss so breathless
that it spiked my dopamine to a volume
that can only be described as) love
(in that every time my neurotransmitters feel) you
(they spin themselves dizzy and dance to your science).
There was a moment in the absence of everything
when I was kissed silent by the presence of something.
Hold me to your breastplate.
I don't ever wanna go back to the void.
02/09/2010
Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 2:03 PM UTC
I am prey to the unyielding Sun
here in this open field
void of shade
holding precious pieces
untouched for 140 years
200 acres of Virginia farmland beneath my feet
where bullets flew
where strong men screamed
and the soil looked as if it had rained blood
death can come quickly or painfully slow
A soldier rips the Eagle breastplate from his chest
and throws it to the ground where I am standing
and here in the sweltering heat
of a calm June afternoon
I pull it from its resting place
no longer shining
140 years removed
from the failing heart
beneath it
Jun 10, 2016
Jun 10, 2016 at 2:11 PM UTC
She looked at me and said
I think you could be someone
Who I would want to cry at my funeral
Because you would have loved me forever
By then
Even in my nightmares
You have no clothes
And I wake cold-sweat
And my ***** is confused
It would be cliché for me to tell you about
The doves
Beating beneath my heart-heavy breastplate
Only most days I feel like a sad piñata
And I want you to beat the heaven out of me
I know what Satan saw
In his decent
And it was worth the trouble
It wasn’t you
(Conceited)
He didn’t see you
Just the passion
The things I want to do to you
Like a lynching
After being dragged for miles from a horse
By the throat
And called a suicide
Only because I didn’t try to stop them from taking me
I want to love you like I should have known better
I want to catch your breath like a harmonica
With my hand over your mouth
A bent note all heave
Slip between my fingers
Let’s be wrong together
Like a nun in a church
Playing I Want Your *** on me
As if I were a ****** pipe *****
Tuned to the key of hallelujah
With a distortion pedal set to laughter
She shook like a love letter
Dropped from a balcony
I didn’t offer my jacket
Just my arms
So much rusty bear traps
Their damp hinges closing is a lonely song
I want to leave here feeling like a shotgun shell
Thrown to the floor hot
And used for killing something
Like the time between now
And your next misfire
Even if we’re just friends by then
She says
I would want you to be there crying
I couldn’t imagine you
anywhere else
Jul 31, 2012
Jul 31, 2012 at 5:17 PM UTC
It is my sincere pleasure to inform you of the return of the Robins to Hill Country .... Stately , regal birds they are , with a dark gray coat and a breastplate of burnt orange ... Telling tall tales of their Winter quarters ,
blessing my backyard by the veritable hundreds ..
Dining voraciously on earthworms and grasshoppers , sifting through the
grass like diligent window shoppers .. Singing sweet melodies and carrying on conversations , 'tis a great blessing indeed to have them home from vacation ...
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 8:53 PM UTC
Come, Madam, come, all rest my powers defy,
Until I labour, I in labour lie.
The foe oft-times having the foe in sight,
Is tired with standing though they never fight.
Off with that girdle, like heaven's zone glistering,
But a far fairer world encompassing.
Unpin that spangled breastplate which you wear,
That th' eyes of busy fools may be stopped there.
Unlace yourself, for that harmonious chime
Tells me from you, that now 'tis your bed time.
Off with that happy busk, which I envy,
That still can be, and still can stand so nigh.
Your gown going off, such beauteous state reveals,
As when from flowery meads th' hill's shadow steals.
Off with that wiry coronet and show
The hairy diadem which on you doth grow;
Now off with those shoes, and then safely tread
In this love's hallowed temple, this soft bed.
In such white robes heaven's angels used to be
Received by men; thou angel bring'st with thee
A heaven like Mahomet's paradise; and though
Ill spirits walk in white, we easily know
By this these angels from an evil sprite,
Those set our hairs, but these our flesh upright.
License my roving hands, and let them go
Before, behind, between, above, below.
O my America, my new found land,
My kingdom, safeliest when with one man manned,
My mine of precious stones, my empery,
How blessed am I in this discovering thee!
To enter in these bonds, is to be free;
Then where my hand is set, my seal shall be.
Full nakedness, all joys are due to thee
As souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be,
To taste whole joys. Gems which you women use
Are like Atlanta's ***** cast in men's views,
That when a fool's eye lighteth on a gem,
His earthly soul may covet theirs, not them.
Like pictures, or like books' gay coverings made
For laymen, are all women thus arrayed;
Themselves are mystic books, which only we
Whom their imputed grace will dignify
Must see revealed. Then since I may know,
As liberally, as to a midwife, show
Thyself: cast all, yea, this white linen hence,
Here is no penance, much less innocence.
To teach thee, I am naked first, why then
What needst thou have more covering than a man.
2.2k
only hurt a little then,
that fractioning of interlocked ribs,
no all-consuming rapture,
i climb through windows,
whiskey and cigarettes buried
in my breastplate,
us weekend warriors
really are fighting something.
happy sometimes. and underneath
mossy water treaded,
tents pitched, long car rides
napped through,
my cheeks slowly melted.
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 10:43 PM UTC
tell me how to strip off this breastplate
and dress myself in pure, lace bodice
washed in all shades of subservience,
when lilith herself taught me
to bare to no man —
bow to no man.
the soil of these lands are built on liberation;
your ribs stake no claim
to what they do not own.
they merely return to dust and ashes —
the very material
of the land you betrayed —
the land you watched burn down,
and i'll tell you this:
this land, it will drift, shake, crumble
to create a catacomb big enough
for all the deaths
you deserve.
honey, this is no prophecy.
this is no threat.
this is justice out of the ribs
of those who'd fallen;
this is justice at the hands of the oppressed.
Jun 5, 2020
Jun 5, 2020 at 2:53 AM UTC
the day you called me
i could hear that tin can tear drop echo
in the midst of my happy hello,
but my hopes crashed faster than my ego
as you recited those rehearsed lines of let go,
& the words were wet with sobs & sweat
& love wasn't mentioned amidst the mess
of apologies & idle threats.
& i listened with my full attention
until you ran out of breath,
& i responded cautiously
with tiny verbal tip-toed steps.
& while your eyes ***** dishonesty,
your heart hunts for a better chest
because you're aware of it so sparingly
it's just a ribcage ornament.
& i felt empathetic as you wept
because your valves were finally thawed & thumping
& i wonder if you felt the weight
on your breastplate
as it was shocked into a waking state,
& made up for missed decades
by pounding at a rapid pace
& revitalizing vapid veins.
& as i listened to you come alive
over that claustrophobic cell phone line
it floods my ears & drains my eyes
& makes my heart divide...
May 8, 2010
May 8, 2010 at 3:21 PM UTC
A STATESMAN is an easy man,
He tells his lies by rote;
A journalist makes up his lies
And takes you by the throat;
So stay at home' and drink your beer
And let the neighbours' vote,
Said the man in the golden breastplate
Under the old stone Cross.
Because this age and the next age
Engender in the ditch,
No man can know a happy man
From any passing wretch;
If Folly link with Elegance
No man knows which is which,
1
But actors lacking music
Do most excite my spleen,
They say it is more human
To shuffle, grunt and groan,
Not knowing what unearthly stuff
Rounds a mighty scene,
1
1.8k
Cardboard boxes containing a fabric
Of something quite similar to corduroy
Converse high tops and a ***** old mattress
All the while oblivious to the boy.
Stacks of old donuts and Burger King fry bags
With whiskey and wine and a strip of barbed wire
Wrapped around a pair of prosthetic legs
And in the meantime he couldn't get higher
I see the photographs flashing in his eyelid telescope breastplate
He slams the sky and dances to the end of days
Crawling on the floor and throwing wet sweaters
Into rusty old dump-trucks on days of red letters!
Sunglasses mimicking Kanye style on a sweater-vest
With hands crawling up made out of glass bowls and jewelry
To encase the black chin made up of the camera-rest
Leading back to the nose jutting forward; a full-finger ring
Molly was her name and her fair hair flowed beautifully
Made up of plastic bags and empty pill-capsules
The eyes are glowing so bright and the mouth gaping open
He screams his dark magic right into the night!
The ******** techno disc-jockey ******
Runs up the telephone pole into kaleidoscope starlight
Eating the moths from the mouths of the dancing girls
Laughing quite gaily and not looking quite right!
The objects unfold and the man crawls from underneath
Surrounded by possessions, clinging to everything
Trying desperately to breathe, dying from a quiet disease
All the things he owned ended up owning him, you see!
Oh! Oh!
Red, red lungs!
Whoa no!
A wire undone!
Oct 25, 2010
Oct 25, 2010 at 3:41 PM UTC
I am there
Wishing that if I pressed my fingers to your lips
I could understand the broken Braille of your breath
When your throat locks in the noise
Gentle butterfly gut
Fanning flames over burning cinderblocks in your belly
I am there
When you wished the moon in a rearview mirror
Heading west
Wondering if you really could go far enough to see its dark side
When you wanted to turn back
I was there
When she drank razorblades
And Tylenol ink
Into a botched suicide note
I was there
This is the journey
When he wondered when he could hold somebody again
Like a waterbed full of blood
Without the motion sickness
I was there
Every moment y’all
Of your ***** sacred
I want to be there
So when you see that this place is so big
And you are so small
And our souls might be stardust and minerals
Burning blue so far away
At least you’re not alone
Your body is built for love
She said
Beer breathed and true
I smiled
I was there
Kiss me with your car parts
DUI this knee buckle
I want to be tried and arrested
Spit out and spanked
And I will still kneel before you
And praise all that is good in you
Because you are holy
Every moment of you is holy
I was there
Begging to be baptized by your presence
Because in a place so big
I don’t want to feel so alone anymore
I want to kiss you
I want to kiss you
Like you are better
Than everything you’ve ever done
You are
I was there
When the world inside your breastplate
Spun natural disaster
And sunshine
Anvil remorse
And sweet laughter
When I held you
Any of you
And our worlds
Vibrated a conversation only our souls could understand
I was there
And all we could speak was “LOVE”
All we could speak was “Us”
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 4:21 PM UTC
i want: an elbow-crook to rest my head
a cigarette to share,
naked forms in riverbeds
and universal train fare.
i need: breastplate percussion under my ear,
a breathing on my spine,
a sunrise built -- my eyes to sear,
and send me to my sign.
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 4:10 AM UTC
Lies in disguise
sound like caring words
Truth in your eyes
seem to cut me like swords
Guess it’s time to suit up
Breastplate and shield
Protect myself
until all wounds are healed
They say fighting is wrong
To forgive is to be strong
While I’m working on that
Just act like I belong
Keep saying you’re proud
Keep lying out loud
Your words don’t mean a thing
You haven’t helped or seen
The life that I’ve been through
It’s never for me
It’s all about you
But in the end you’ll see
Just keep saying you’re proud of me.
Adoration you expect
yet, you can’t provide the means
You chose to neglect
every cry and every scream
Not interested in love
Not interested in me
Interested in appearance
So saying “I believe”.
They say fighting is wrong
To forgive is to be strong
While I’m working on that
Just act like I belong
It’s time I started my quest
I’m out to conquer the world
For me, I must do what’s best
The map must be unfurled
I will pin my destination
the farthest I will go
to form a new foundation
So that I can truly grow.
But, keep saying you’re proud
Keep lying out loud
Your words don’t mean a thing
You haven’t helped or seen
The life that I've been through
It’s never for me
It’s all about you
But in the end you’ll see
Just keep saying you’re proud of me.
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 4:12 PM UTC
Read me, in the elixir of life,
have a slice of duality pie.
Behind lined ivory,
is someone you call you
and I call me.
Read me, in a tear of sadness,
orbs of memories stored
in genetic madness.
Read me, in the dog-eared page
the leaf that quiets my mind
and makes me whole again.
Read me, in my racing thoughts
bipolar existence is more difficult
than not.
Read me, in the grip of melancholy
revisit the wrist scars
of folly.
Read me, in the breastplate of armor
the era of my belief
in chivalry and honor.
Read me, in the time of sepia
tradition fueled
by dreams and dementia.
Read me, in the tip of a candles flame
passions burn bright,
yet I wear no others name.
Read me, at the foot of an altar
murmuring prayers, "...lead my paths..."
or I will falter.
Read me, in an open palm
outstreched, open to you
and calm.
Read me, in the fools smile
the joy will last
only a while.
Read me, in the clear walkway
steps number
all my days.
Read me, in the shattered glass
anger subsides
down to simmer and it will pass.
Read me, in the inkwell bright
the pen has punctured me
felled by might.
Read me, in the moonlight there
lie to me,
tell me you care.
Jun 5, 2012
Jun 5, 2012 at 6:25 PM UTC
**** me platonically.
Measure the distance between your fingers and the synapse in my brain.
Check the amplitude across my breastplate and The absence of love marks semblance covering it.
Detach your hips from mine and run away from Me faster.
Look along the purlieu of my heart and shake me Harder with subliminal messages between Glances.
Touch my versification to your mouth and do not Stop your flickering eyes from studying the genial Eulogies between every line.
Sir, you cannot touch antique pieces of marrow And bone.
This blood is obsolete.
How anachronistic to have a heart pumping Inside of a dead soul.
Please tell me a story, the side I could never see.
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC
Alone again, on the same furrowed land
Knees trembling to much to stand
I find my feet firmly planted in quicksand
I'm sinking yet AGAIN
There is no need to pretend
My situation is to much to comprehend
I'm tired of all the abuse
Forced into being a lonely recluse
I once again raise my flag of truce
This suffering is way to much to bear
So I let go, raise my hands into the air
To an uncaring entity, I offer my last prayer
I hear the last toll of the bell
As the tears in my eyes swell
Sinking into my own personal hell
I watch my life slowly dissipate
I listen to the last beat beneath my breastplate
I could no longer carry the weight
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 6:20 AM UTC
Your chest is made up of solid marble.
I am spent,
Five years I've chipped away, slinging picks and sawing dust off of your breastplate
I hear wings flapping against your ribs but I cannot free your bird's heart
It is too small and it is growing weaker
I took your temperature with my palms and nicknamed you Arctic
You were my Alaska and I made thawing you my meaning
Five years I've wondered why we work so hard at what we can't have
You're cold as stone and I'm losing my patience
So I set aflame your collarbone and poured gasoline over your sternum
Sat back and watched the fireworks pinging off of your chest hairs
They glow blue in the evening
You're blue and I'm freezing
I'm moving on
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 12:27 PM UTC
Here i am, ripped, open.
Bones bared, muscles scarred and torn for you.
As you inquisitively take your eyes and survey the damage,
like some sort of architect,
of a future grander, design,
you have in mind.
And i must miss every single heartbeat you make,
in me,
i lost it when words came from your mouth,
and ordered me away.
So each beat lost its echo, it lost its twin,
it, lost, me.
And my bloodied chest was pinned back;
my breastplate, no longer a piece of shining armor,
lost its shine,
dull to your touch,
as you peeled it back to get to the very heart of me;
though the plate was in no hurry to leave,
it was stuck down quite hard,
and still words whispered around me,
a thousand different voices telling me what to do.
Yet, all i had, was, you.
It was you, i wanted just you.
You.
You, who is putting fingers into dying flesh,
You, who, is taking the very best of me,
of us.
You were my morning, and my nighttime,
my right hand and my left,
my second ear, my watchful eye;
And this concave chest of indescribable treasure,
is where you, used to lay, with me,
telling me that my heartbeat is too fast,
and i'd tell you 'its for you'.
So now you come to claim it,
for who would have such a thing to play with,
and never use it for fun?
So you said those words, and pulled my heart from my chest,
and as i died,
you said 'don't worry, its not for long'.
So i listen to the last beats of my life's drum,
pulsating in your arms,
you make 'it' into a new plaything,
as i lie dying, bare ***** dying slowly,
wrapped in peoples arms, crying to fill the void,
I can hear myself in the last few contractions,
trying to hold myself within,
and you're stroking my heart like it belongs to you,
and no-one knows why,
you've left me to die,
lost, and lonely,
so you could go out to play.
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 3:49 PM UTC
Every thought I have is you
Even when I finally managed to stop involuntarily whispering your name,
On cold mornings
I see it on my breath
Like Carrol’s caterpillar
Askin’
Who
Are you?
That’s the problem
I already know who you are
Now I am tryin’ to forget
But I can’t
I made some promises that I need to keep
For instance
I said I would never let them bury you
And we somehow managed to find our way into burning buildings
I told you how I keep my heart in my throat to trap the air in my chest
So that I would stop gasping in your presence
I inhale smoke sometimes
And I cried
When they brought me your blackened breastplate
Heart still beating a fire
Looked like the sun
There’s a universe in you
And now it’s in me too
Gives off this light that is almost blinding
So that when I rub my eyes
The iridescent reflection of them on the back of my lids
Is the same color as yours
Same color as gasoline on pavement
Makes me wanna set this world on fire
Only way to stop seeing you everywhere
Like the ****** Mary
I saw you in my oatmeal
Heard you in a wind chime
Whisperin’ like the wind
Beggin me to consider life like a skipped heartbeat
You ****** me when you left
Forgot me like a puzzle
Soda stained on a coffee table
I got black holes in my universe
And now every thought I have is you
You are in every word I speak
In every sound I hear
Even my breath
spells your name
Apr 13, 2011
Apr 13, 2011 at 11:56 AM UTC
Calcimine
My head is full of blood
Brain is a damp hot piece of meat
**** hot wet useless
Calcimine
My skull is calcium waste
Cranium cradling USDA grade A
****
Calcimine
My heart is knocking on my breastplate
Good, it knows that my body is tainted
It’s a-knock knock knocking at a coach whip pace
Calcimine
Irises flooded by curious pupils
Open wide swell
Absorbing dizzying light
Calcimine
Side lamp belongs on the floor
Shattered stacks smashing objects
At the mercy of my car wash arms
Calcimine
I can feel Satan waiting assured
Ready to accept my blood sack body
Liars and cheats all go to hell
Calcimine
My head is a feverish cardinal
Still my face, though hell awaits, guards the fact
And I do, I drench my febrile skull
Calcimine
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 8:46 PM UTC
I.
she was so
beautiful between my
sheets you just
couldn't stand it
you fought for
me first all
wars must end
sometime
II.
and wherever
the gods are
they're jealous of
us for loving
so endlessly
III.
my
antihero my heart
my backbone my
breastplate my battle
to lose it
was all worth
it
IV.
for one
night with her
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 7:53 PM UTC
If I could rearrange my body,
I'd move my humorous bone to my brain
because, honestly, I'm the last one to get the joke.
The sole of my feet would house my heart
so every step I take, Mother Nature feels my love.
My ears would be close to my hands
so when I reach out, he'll see that I'm listening.
One eye behind my head, the other facing forward,
one looking for stray daggers, the other focused on the future.
I'd move some bones to form a breastplate
because I'm more afraid of what's to come than what happened.
I just wouldn't want to loosen my humanity.
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 11:52 PM UTC
He’d been away with the army then
For almost twenty years,
And walking back to his village he
Had expected smiles and tears,
He thought his wife would be waiting there
Though his son, he knew, was grown,
He’d been away and protecting them
Though the soldier, now, was home.
He saw the village had barely changed
Though the people stood and stared,
He thought that they were in awe of him
Could it be the village cared?
They took in his battered breastplate and
The dents that marked his greaves,
The helmet that had been battered and
The blood on his chain-mail sleeves.
He’d walked for several miles since when
His horse had collapsed and died,
It weathered many a battle but
Fell foul of the countryside,
But soon he’d take off his armour when
He would meet again his bride,
And she would make him a pottage, and
Rejoice that he hadn’t died.
He’d tramped in the lands of Burgundy
He’d fought in the land of Gaul,
He’d taken the Cross to Saladin
And wept at the Wailing Wall.
His face bore scars from the sword and lance
And a mace had raked his back,
From a knight behind who had been struck blind
In a frontal, forced attack.
He’d waded deep in a sea of blood,
He’d trampled a field of bones,
And helped to bury his comrades there
Marking the place with stones,
But now his body was tired and worn
It was leave the field, or die,
His horse had brought him wandering home
To the village of Burton Rye.
His wife came out from the cottage door
And she blanched, and shook in fear,
‘I don’t know where you are coming from
But you don’t belong in here!’
He glanced at the short and thickened form
That he didn’t recognise,
‘Are you the wife I’ve been fighting for,
If so, my memory lies!’
‘You went away in another life
Leaving none to warm my bed,
I took a shine to the blacksmith here,
Fell in love with him, instead.
It’s twenty years since you went away
Did you think you could return?
You’ve lived the life of a soldier, all
You do, is pillage and burn.’
‘I had to go to protect you here,
Out there, it’s a world at war,
I’ve fought the enemy everywhere
To keep the pain from your door.
I loved you when you were slim and young
And your eyes were bright with cheer,’
His shoulders slumped and he turned away,
‘I see I’m not wanted here!’
David Lewis Paget
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 1:06 PM UTC
You are all I feel,
You parade through my thoughts.
Such wonders I've found, in the gallery of you.
A dedication of a thousand candles,
Lit before an effigy of your intellect.
I have parted the clouds with your memory,
And found the sun
Does not bear a fraction of your radiance.
All the light that has been since the beginning
Pales in comparison to a single drop of your beauty.
Moving through my life, as a rolling symphony,
A song of love, you are the music of my dreams.
Please, let us continue down this road together.
You can feel my words before I speak them.
With you, I can be speechless, and still be heard.
Let me place these lips upon your hand,
Seal my fealty, with this kiss, so you understand,
It is your symbol emblazoned on my breastplate,
For I am in service to you, I am your Knight errant,
And each time I return from my journey,
All the spoils I have claimed, I place before you,
So that while I am gone, you shall dwell in the luxury of my memory,
Of you.
Sep 16, 2012
Sep 16, 2012 at 9:37 AM UTC