I was wandering in a war-field when it happened,
Bleary eyed and alone, stumbling over debris,
Curious as to why the canons of my ramparts ceased.
The once lush green landscape I cherished, now blackened;
deep gashes and fallen oaks lay in splintered heaps.
Yet in spite of all that remained in utter disrepair,
all that seemed disastrous and rife with despair,
A reincarnation of Athena arose from afar
ascending a hill to the East like a phoenix
Rising unscathed from the ashes around her.
Her hair caught in the breeze and streamed
like dark chestnut flames setting the air on fire;
each tendril struck the ether like flint upon stone.
And the deep brown in her almond eyes alighted
Like twin beacons of hope to the lost and the stranded;
They drew me in without effort, I found it futile to resist.
At first it was blinding, her inimitable light,
the ethereal gleam cast by the setting sun
Reflected like Archimedes’ fire from her armor,
A burnished silver suit with ornate engravings
flowing like intricate streams of gold from head to toe,
Forcing my eyes to adjust to her otherworldly glow.
She rode atop a white stallion with a red bridle,
Studded with sapphire stones and polished silver rivets,
its silken mane flowed like the finest threads
Spun by the nimblest hands of Olympia’s best.
The rider then surveyed the ashen wastes strewn
About her by the gnarled hands of the misled,
yet she showed no sign of reluctance, no urge to flee
instead, she called across the field, beckoning
With an outstretched hand, and a beaming smile.
Swiftly it shattered my inhibitions, that simple flash of teeth.
And as I grew closer, a warmth began to bloom within my chest,
At first like a candle trying to illuminate a vast and empty room,
slowly growing into a vibrant torch alighting every corner.
I felt my body relax as I was pulled closer toward the hill,
Enveloped in a tender warmth this body had never know before.
My eyes grew heavy and before I arrived, they had all but closed
allowing myself to fall under her spell, with her hand now upon my head,
and a whisper in my ear that “destruction never revives the dead;
hear me now, you cannot let the dark times rule your kingdom
For the sun does not shine on a mind with closed doors.
Let the light filter through, tear down those towering walls
And allow your soul to live free of such poisonous pride.”
When her hand raised slowly from my head, my eyes opened;
the world had regained its color, the ancient oaks now stood tall
The upturned earth now settled into grassy plains,
And the songbirds were filling the air with their avian twang.
The divots and the shrapnel embedded in my walls disappeared.
And though the rider had vanished, her influence remained.