Warrior

• Stephanie Sheridan, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2011

Golden eyes, he remembered vaguely.
Golden and flecked with brown
Jagged scars ran down her face,
And with hair as dark as dark can be,
Fell down her back as she lay
Lifeless in his hands. She dripped at her throat
The ravens descended into the air
And she too took flight in the vicious glare of the night
Her skin as white as a too bright light.
She never truly got to be what nobody expected to see
But in her final dying day, she put aside her scars.
And her heart failed to bleed for she was finally free.
All that was left was a love stricken warrior,
Too hopelessly in love to once again love again
And too far gone to ever truly be a man.