The Bottom of the Hill

The bottom of the hill

I stood to fight

I had crafted armor

thicker than the shadows themselves

and my sword was sharper

than the blades of your past

I was there to fight for you.

I began my climb, met at each plateau

by a foe no less intimidating than the last, my past

crept onto my shoulders

guiding itself deep into my mind

planting inklings of fear and decay, I strayed

from my path and found

an endless sea of treachery

trees that stretched for miles.

Like isles they stood

to find the light, my sight

grew dim as night crept in, thin

as paper, the twig I chose

to light a torch to face my foes

But when I saw they’d grown with night

and saw my fight of greater might, I tried

to stay brave, to put on the face

of the heroes I’d known from books long ago, I chose

to stay, I chose my fate.

Yet when they pounced

no longer did they bounce

from my chest-plate of steel, I reeled in pain

yet fought on for you.

I climbed and climbed, my weariness seeped

into my mind, to find its way into my heart, the start of dawn

grew on the lawn, I saw the peak within my view, I knew

I’d make it to the top, can’t stop, my feet with vigor ran, I spanned

the lawn in no time, tried to find any sight of you.

I reached the top and there you were

behind the largest of the herd

the monster lunged, I tried to fight, yet white

my face grew when I found

my blade no longer sharp and sound

my armor pierced by many fights.

I saw you fading in the light, flight

took me as I raced for you, to see your face

just one more trace, and yet remained only a hole

a gaping break among the ground.

I found no more a fire in me

my passion drained, barely refrained

from jumping in to end the pain

no longer were you there for me, the agony

set in, my heart had torn, and yet

when I stood to walk the hill

the monster from before endured

its ghoulish face aglow with glee

to see me in such agony.