Your Kind, King's Return..

#12 The Final Hero

A King’s Return..

They say, every thread has a purpose. But, by this hour in the sand mirages had woven a different tale on my conscious.

The Castle’s in the sands, golden crows, and her smile, along with everything else had collapsed into his eyes.

In his eyes, behind the mask, I sensed dancing Andromeda’s with every tree burning desire for purpose. Every road crawling, for a Sunday beyond 49th..

Covenant’s in longing. Pasturing consciousness, some weaved apart, some lonely by those whispers of a simple horizon. Whispering the good word, for a strange foreigner. Where a black rider poked holes in a narrative, of salvation in the far fields, around rabbit’s and snakeskin’s..

While, much here was like a mine which had collapsed under the weight of horses and civilisations. His firm grip on my shoulder confirmed that exile was soon to be a bride of a former belief..

He didn’t talk much. Waved a cloth around the wind, then put it on me. Burning all the sections which said by the watch of men, claiming to be on King’s right side. Next I remember a flickering light, as I was put sideways, by each gallop of a horse.

In that moment, I my heartbeats were like moon on a still river. Gracious to the host, without sections, to please, forms to fill, desert’s to crawl through.

Finally, a King had negotiated the lands, mirages, and all of eternity for me..

Addendum :

At the king’s table,

Weary was the norm,

Too many on his plate,

His companions were lost,

To either desert or a snakeskin forms..

Why, I had said does a man wander?

Wh! He raised a glass to a leper,

And a newborn, a man tilling,

In the shadows, hoping for a new dawn..

So, I felt sense crawl over my heartbeat’s at last,

Still, weary but glad for, finally a King had negotiated,

Many a man’s thorns..