Hot breath floats before my eyes
Cold steel weighs my weary head
Sight remote, behind a visage so cruel
Faithful steed buoys me on the canter

Chain mail courses o’er tired shoulders
My violent hands weep tears of toil into leather
Thighs no longer sturdy, showing no fervour
Beneath groaning hide and burnished plate

A shield certain as sun’s rise
My sword, my staff, my weapons
Hang tainted, chipped and outspoken
Red Cross, white linen, holds my enemies dying sighs

Bruised to the bone
My body bears disdain’s witness
Valour, honour, pride,
Truly, where are such bounties for battle?

Herald the scars in my soul
Weeping tears, I lament for sons I have rendered
I have lent my arm to the hooded taker
I have watched fires burn days, on blood drenched sand

Stitched, poultice, fevered
I have felt the cold shadow pass me by
Disfigured beyond the physical
Two crusades, undone am I

I see the meadow
Hickory smoke summons me
Barking hounds announce me, arrived from my wander
Hark that most blessed, enchanted domain

Saviour turned survivor
I crave solace in her wondrous bosom
My woman, my sorceress, my champion
Has come save me from this daemon most foul and grand



A few nips and a tuck done so far, still not happy with;

Hot breath floats before my eyes - 'floats' is the offender here.

I have lent my arm to the hooded taker - not happy with 'hooded taker'

thoughs please?
Steve