downfall

A letter from a humble knight. States her lost of war, and lost of raid. In an almost-fade ink, there lies the truth of her downfall. For this knight believed in a convincing comrade. For this knight went without army nor shield, neither was there any shining armor nor sword. For the faith given was wrapped with dignity and pure belief. Only to be scratched and teared by those filthy hyenas. For the knight was a she and for that she wasn't secure. And so her fortress built crashed down and bowed and obeyed to the greed and comfort of her comrade. Her supporting arms abandoned the war. Alone. Selfishly. And as the comrade change its name to foe, so she built a tomb to sacred her kindness. Like the fading dusts of the after war, her soul and beliefs perished to the underworld. The enemy at hand was let loose and set free. And the horizon of what should be cheers and rejoice now turns to a solemn, mourning sky. And with all the agony, she gathered her bits of strength. To return home and pledged never to combat in this risky cold war.

Home was her final destination and home was far. Out of all her misfortunes, she found her wounds were healed and cured and she was somewhere safe. For someone had bought her an antidote and someone was so divine. For someone had took pity on her and had cover her tears with a warm and cosy laughter. For her bruised dignity was cured and she was taken far from the sight of her collapsed fortress. Only for a second would she wish to know a reason for such evil. But only to be reminded of how a fool she had been, and how lucky she had become.