InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Poetry of the Sengoku Jidai ❯ Fisted ( Chapter 13 )

[ A - All Readers ]

Fisted

At days' end my hand grows tired, bearing the burdens of heroism.

For no matter the strength of my grip,

I cannot protect against myself

without a scrap of cloth and its sheathing spell of will.

Visions of all not yet lost -

promises that may yet be fulfilled -

Hope -

keeps me fisted against the darkness growing inside.

When duty ends and indigo rolls across the sky

`what will be' whispers its inevitability.

Quiet silver light blends into the

shadow of my open palm

obscuring the fabric of my shield,

revealing it as a fragile veil, easily torn.

Weariness -

pulls at me to lift the edge, to follow my soul's way home.

It would be like flying everywhere at once,

becoming everything and nothing,

a billion things and one with all.

A small rip or a large wrinkle

would open me to my darkness, and

in the wind and the rush I would soar.

Freedom -

coaxes me to let go of myself, releasing the weight and worry to eternity.

Moonlight's glimmer invades my eye,

blinking me open to the curve of a woman, her skin calling my hand to touch her.

The loamy wet smells of the night -

the essence of wine still on my tongue -

the deep rumbling sound of a friends' whispered `good night.'

Life -

grounds me in rich contradiction,

renewing for me the joys that keep my fist closed against the night.