Lips of molten steel,
yet soft as feathery down.
Memorable moments with a stranger,
whom I have known so well.
Teeth scrape on skin;
claws mar flesh.
Good and evil wrapped up in one.
Memorable even as I try to forget
truth that cannot be denied.
Territory marked.
Sealed with a kiss.
Beaten into submission
and made to feel weak.
When strength is all you have,
the weakness defeats the purpose.
Some battles cry out to be fought.
Cry HAVOC and let loose the dogs of war.
The only option left.
The touch is filled with lying intentions.
But in the end,
it's the only truth.
Take my hand and I'll lead you
past the briers and the barbs
through the garden of discontent
that has become a battlefield,
littered with the bones of those who came before you...
those without the strength...
to fight the good fight
and win the war.
Battlescarred armor
and shattered chainmail,
bloodridden blades
dripping with defeat.
Push them aside and move on.
If you stumble,
I'll be there.
Just don't let go.
