Zela’s Rage

    I can feel my pulse beating in my neck
    Shaking my head
    Quivering my eyeballs
    The foe is charging me
    It’s nothing to get excited about
    So why does my heartbeat thud through my body?
    This is war
    It is not exciting
    It is a whirlwind of weariness
    Terror
    Grief
    Hatred
    All screaming to be let out and let this nightmare end
    They are on us
    I duck and dodge, my keen sword cutting through their armour
    I don’t know why Niangril is special
    It is just like long ago, long ago
    When we were young and more innocent
    We are still innocents
    Or else we never were
    We fought in tournaments and mock combats
    Now it is real
    Perhaps I face some whom I fought long ago in the sunlight
    It is dark
    No one likes war
    The sun hides her face in loathing
    My hair breaks free from its bindings for the ten thousandth time
    My helmet slides from my head; I can hear more deeply now
    Without my panting echoing in my ears with the volume of an earthquake
    My hair flies in the wind of my leaping and twisting
    I long to be like my hair
    Dancing with no knowledge of tomorrow
    Instead I dance the dance of death

Back