Gilt and Metal

A girl, a teenager, in armor,

               Rode into the dark of the world,

               Into the mud and pain of battle,

               And was an angel in this world.

 

               And I sit, in a small park, trembling,

               Overcome with fear and sorrows,

               At what will come, and what I’ve done,

               And what I’m afraid I may truly be.

 

               I walk in a falling evening, in falling cold,

               To where her statue stands, in gilt and metal,

               And look upon her, and wish I was always her,

               Always free in purity and light.

 

               Will she forgive me? Will she let me in?

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