I was erected many cycles before her birth
a monument to all men..with my proud stone sword i
watched thru the portal of her father's window
as she was born and
rejoiced silently for these lips are stone...
she played among my feet as a toddler and i
envisioned her as a proud warrior...
such a precious child..from then i wanted to tell
her two words...
but i could not
for these lips are stone.
i watched young men woo her as she gained age and
felt a small amount of envy
their arms could caress her
tho i kno i couldn't feel a thing..
how soft she must be..
she took up the spear and gave her life to her country..
i watched with intense agony as battle loomed on the horizon..
and always rejoiced when she returned
bloody from the battle scarred but not ruined...
lauded by the peoples in the square as a heroine..
and
every time they paraded her near me...
our eyes would meet..
her's living
mine own stone..
my tongue longed to utter two words
but..my lips were stone..
once she returned and the blood was not her enemy's but her own..
i feared her injuries were mortal and i
stood guard and
peeked thru her father's,
now her bedroom
as she battled fever and
returned victorious..
two words still on my lips..
her eyes lined as years passed and
she took on the hair gray of a distinguished woman..
leading legions thru delegations and senate
i watched them all..
i drew my sword when her heart was broken and
wept silently as she bore
the agony of childbirth..
but she survived even this and
my lips still could not utter those two word..
stone as they were..
age catapulted into her lifeline and
she faced the inevitability of all who
can actively live
and love..
the reaper visited her door with a gift in hand one nite.
she lay sick..
old in age..
weak so as not to recover..
and i was heartbroken.. for
she would pass before i could tell her..
"you`re beautiful"
