Passion of Caring
'Twas one snowing wintry evening,
Snow and ice abound in the fields;
Fields once productive and green
And now barren and ravaged.
One flaming house in the distance;
One fiery construct of timber
One burning remains of memories
And all the loving it holds.
A man, walking slowly away,
In the fields of cold,
A man, walking with a woman
In his arms of warmth.
The woman, fairest of virgins,
Fair Reis Dular, the dragons' child,
The woman, fairest of humans
Reis Dular, the lady stricken with grief.
For her family brigands had slain;
Her family, thieves have torched;
Her home, her memories thrown into chaos
As all that she knew vanished in flame.
Her new life begins this snowy evening,
A new life of passion and love;
Taught by her lover and saviour,
Who had rescued her from the flames of death.
Into his house she is admitted;
A house of warriors and squires,
A house of men serving the holy church
And a home for knights under the king.
Bedridden she was for days,
Her body broken by the brigands,
But her spirit they cannot extinguish,
For it was drowned in anguish.
Her lover, Sir Beowulf Kadmus,
A leader of the Holy Knights,
Took charge of her healing;
His battle-scarred hands,
Lined with the touch of healing,
His voice, uttering spells of cure
Instead of his usual cries of war.
Her slender body, recovering
Under his strict care, received
Strength anew, as though reborn
And before the twelfth of the twelfth,
To casual normality returned.
Well? Am I doing anything wrong? Or am I doing something right? In any case, I wouldn't know what you're thinking unless you told me. I hope you had as much fun reading this as I had writing this.