A Ranger’s Heart

A Ranger’s Heart

By the full moon this night,
the Ranger swears his Heart away –
his vulnerability –
his armour donned,
his sword unsheathed –
Its hilt heavenward,
A Cross he has to bear.
A final kiss unto his fingers –
A wretched fist formed
By prayerful palms –
Wrapped around a tiny dagger’s hilt.
Bejeweled mockery of
Bloodstained iron and wood,
Driven through palm and feet
Of the Son.
Come hither, Battle!
Intertwine and mix
Blood like wine,
Hands for feet and Limb for limb.
Throes furious
Mercifully copious –
Let it rain wine and beat down –
Till exhaustion take us,
One or the Other,
Though not Both.
Fear the Ranger’s hidden Charms,
Like a hidden dagger
Bejewelled, encrusted and laden
By blood, and
Thrust – Twisted tumult –
In thy gut.

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