Inches apart
Olive green solemn face
Serious concentration for all that remains
Warrior, fighter, guardian it seems
And the cold wind blows and blazes its hurried ways
Icicles sprinkles of sharp shards
penetrate
that dull armour chinks
Dented metal and bruised heart embrace
Frown lines, lined eyes of what secrets shared?
Lost years and a missing touch
Of wronged time
Of wrong stages
Of a closer bond that nothing can ever put in place
A porcelain figurine
lost in the forgotten realm
inches away from the old guardian sword
Apart in hollow darkness
There.
Together.
And not
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