The Paladin's Lament

The swirl of vengeful desert dust
and moral rage long simmering
dulls the sound of angel's wing
and hides my hope's light glimmering.

In righteous roar of red-tinged mist,
all peace of mind is gone and lost.

If challenge in this life were fair,
not vigilance by dragon's lair,
if I had just normal struggles made,
not bashing demons on my blade,
the gnashing in my soul would stop
and easy wrongs would kindly drop.

I deftly face old Darwin's knife
slicing weakness from my life,
but facing devils miles wide
with no-one's army by my side
is getting old quite hard and fast;
time's mortal strength will not long last.

If worldly needs did not exist
I'd retire to a hermit's nest,
but with quiet breaking heart at noon
my sinful midnight hand creeps in
delivering me so I may rest,
tears falling after on my breast,
that waits to cherish, love, adore,
if just my pride were not at war.
Alone I fall asleep at night,
alone I wake in morning light.