The Mighty Me

I walked the sea of red,  shrouded by the gold gleam,

The weight upon my head, bore me down every second I stepped.

The sceptre in my hand, and the velvet coat,

Followed the girl in white, as she swung her flaxen rope.

Dropped to the chest of the man I felled,

Her eyes pouring down on me, with diamonds of grief.

Did the right thing, I took 20 heads

 my kingdom, grateful.

Her eyes took mine, and held them like gravity

Told me a hundered stories with but a single drop,

Caressing her cheek.

Slowly slid her hand to her father’s side,

Touched the hilt and made it pure.

The sabre kissed her neck as she made rubies.

The rings I bore, the pride.

I watched it settle to a pebble sitting there.

As she gave her head, she took mine,

Buried it 6 feet under, and shamed.

I drank that night, the elixir drinking me,

Saw her eyes, as they bore into the stone I had in me.

Pierced it like the sword at my hip,

Gleamed like the gems I had.

I took to white, at the sacred ground, bowed my head.

Walking the path of destiny, years after I gave up my stones.

I saw her, the girl in white, looking down upon me.

Stabbing me with her eyes, tearing down

The Mighty Me.