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Where is the warrior; and where has he gone?
My first attempt at a story in rhyme. I'm reluctant to call it a poem because it needs work. It's semi-autobiographical, in a metaphorical way.
Where is the warrior; and where has he gone?
Where is the voice that cried out:
“I await the battle! Bring it on!”?
Where is the horse and where is its master?
Where is he who rode into battle
With fearlessness and laughter?
Where is the man who would die for his brother?
His bravery was unbounded;
Always his enemies running for cover.
He slayed demons and dragons;
All evil that came near.
And fight he did, year after year.
He swung his sword and his enemies gave way.
To their gods for deliverance his enemies prayed.
The warrior cried out in a voice loud and clear
“I will live to fight another day! You will know fear!”
But the years of battle had taken their toll
For all his victories he now had nothing to show.
The warrior was weary and his fighting is done
He fought long and he fought well, and now he’s called home.
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