Refuge

My demons cannot reach me here.
They know you hate them.
And they run in terror just like I used to.
Defeated before reaching the battlefield.

My "protectors" have always been the basilisk.
Chasing away the bogeyman,
Only to save every last morsel of my fear, my pain,
To feast upon themselves.

You have accepted my tears,
Yet never taken them from me.
Never demanded them or scorned me for them.
Merely dried them when it was time.

You have tasted my fear,
And gently guided me through it
You seem to prefer the taste of my exultation.
I am glad to share it with you.

No armour, shining or otherwise;
No steed, however valiant.
Will ever make the man,
The greatest knight should hope to be.

©Khaos WolfKat 2003