Farewell!

The lone warrior stood alone at the gates,
Awaiting the unknown enemy,
And his bugle’s call,
To sound the end of the beginning,
To signal the beginning of the end.

The stones, he observed in wonder,
That his forebears and many before them,
In awe, had gazed at in the ages before,
Saw he the marks of the floods,
Of water and of blood, of previous battles fought,
Of massacres averted, of enemies thwarted.

He wondered to himself,
Would he ever see his beloved again?
Would he caress her soft brown tresses?
They with the sweet jasmine blossoms,
And the mehndi’s bitter scent?

Would he hold her in his embrace?
And look into those oceans of blue,
Those jewels of sapphire,
Encased in that frame of pure porcelain?
Would he ever hear her dulcet voice?
That which resounded like
A thousand wind chimes in the morning breeze?
Would he ever again clasp her delicate wrist?
That would be adorned with ornaments of untainted silver?

A trumpet broke his reverie,
Saw he that it was over,
The war had begun, the end was near,
Farewell, my love, farewell,
Forgive me, I ask of thee, for I could not
Return your affections.
Farewell!