d e s e r t wanderer

Written by Amaya posing as Cat
Once upon a time,
in a land far away,
a man and woman fought,
and fell in love the very last day.


She was a warrior spirit,
who battled with grim malice.
In one hand, a ghastly sword,
the other, a blood-filled chalice.


Skin like the bleached bones
of all the rivals she killed,
Lips more crimson than the blood she bore,
and equal to the blood she spilled.


Blood stained was her rusted armor,
that protected her from war.
Her hair was ever so much longer than she,
a deep ebony set in lore.


But most fearful were her ebony eyes,
that pierced through one’s soul,
they shone with the anger of fire.
If you saw, your life was the toll.


Her legend said she traveled a place
of wasted desert sands.
Barren as her blackened soul,
coldest of all the lands.


She drifted like the desert sand,
blown by the wind’s ire,
only serving her master,
never knowing fear.

One day, she finally met her match,
a younger man destined to be king,
they fought on for o’er ninety nights.
The clashing swords in the air would ring.


They both collapsed on the ninety-first day,
Exhausted, hungry, and cold.
On that wasted desert plain,
their willpower had to fold.

As they sat, feebly catching a breath,
he leaned in and gave her a kiss.
The first affection the warrior held,
a single light in her soul’s abyss.

When they embraced each other, fires were
quenched,
those deadly lights in each eye,
the blood on her armor melted away,
and those eyes, they started to cry.


The tears flooded the desert plain,
and left in their many paths,
flowers and grass, trees and ferns,
soon the air was filled with a child’s laughs.


From then on, the couple lived
in a modest house on the plain.
With pretty flowers and a child,
their lives were never the same.
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