Author: the mean kitten
Rating: T (pg)
Theme: Buffy/Angel, post shanshu and the final episode of Buffy, Angel's POV.
Disclaimer: I do not own them. You know that.
Feedback: please! I beg you!
A warrior's rest
I used to think the light of a full moon on your fair skin was something to cherish deeply inside,
That the marble of sacred sanctuaries would forever be our witness,
But I no longer feel so strongly about this,
A pale gleam no longer speaks to my aching heart,
Not when I've seen you in glorious shades of gold,
Of molten crimson and languid pink,
Of true green that no firelight could catch deftly.
I speak of that kaleidoscope of hazel,
That ever-changing planet of emotions that made me wish for more,
Not just for the minute's time of our hectic universe,
But the forgotten memories of that day that wasn't,
That day neither one of us forgot.
Before …we fought, we bled, we suffered, we killed and yet…
We were still incapable of defeating fate.
We were nothing but a jasmine hiding from her captors in the dark,
Nothing but fleeing illusions,
Dreams of what could have been…but wasn't.
The night was my jail keeper as day was yours,
We were broken and bound for our destinies,
And finally we have achievements,
Finally we have found a working oven to bake ourselves in,
To redeem the flaws of our past.
And I must thank the gods for this small token.
We are no longer apart by old grieves and transgressions,
No longer apart by circumstances,
We are together at last,
There is finally a we, my dearest warrior.
I must tell you this, my love:
Thou are my rest,
Through the long, cold, harsh winter of my life I've waited,
For solace, for kinship, for love,
Now I wait no more,
The blood that was spilled,
The tears that were cried,
The battles that were fought,
They all lead me here.
I am a broken warrior,
But I'm still yours.
I am a beast that wears the clothes of a man,
You know I'm not someone who belongs,
Like your people say,
I'm someone who lurks, spies, hides and lies,
I am not sure if my name fits me anymore,
If anything I've become an Angel of death, not of beauty,
Like you often said.
But you love me just the same,
Such things I still try to understand, but some just are,
No logic must support them,
Our love is one of those things,
A permanent fly in the universe' soup.
Alas, this nonsense must lead somewhere,
You, all the roads lead to you,
To the soft pillow of your mounds,
The sweetness of your breath,
The sheer joy of your laughter,
And the pleasure of your moans.
If I must justify this winter of war, pain and blood,
I will do it based on you,
It was all a test,
To see if I would endure and await,
To see if I would merit you,
Do I, my love?
You, the proud, the brave, the forgiven and the savior.
You must know I've endured much for this.
Do I deserve you?
I don't know.
I feel as though I do,
Why would you be here?
Warming my bed,
Filling my heart,
Carrying immortality inside the
haven of your womb.
To this I must arrive:
You are my rest,
I must thank you,
You've not come painlessly to this place either,
How could you?
You are only human,
How could I expect you to be less than you are?
To not break when the world ended at your feet,
When you lost so much to a cause that wasn't your own.
But you are here, and that's all that matters.
Rest now, my fierce warrior,
Lay your head upon my chest,
For I will watch your sleep,
I will guard your dreams as if they were my own,
For they are promises of what I've yet to do for you,
Rest now, my light,
For tomorrow …I'm afraid…we'll fight again.
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