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Romulus
A humane silhouette devoid of all sound
Traversing through the expanse of sylvan spires
Countless tears of Old Man Winter litter the ground
The count of bipedal descensions grows higher
Valiant with heart, young, fearing none
Carved remnant of earth's metals in hand
The ground grystals dyed by the scarlet sun
Sustenance from Gaea is his only demand
Whimpers from the distant, icy void
Rapid footsteps set out upon their path
Of all hesitation is this being devoid
Who must face his blade's noble wrath
The quest complete, he sees the beast
Fur tipped with paint from the stormy sky
Seat of Knowledge knows he must make hast
Ascending is his blade, a savage cry
Eyes symmetrical, the waves of awe
Tears of ambivalence, burning though cool
Can he rob this creature of its skin raw
To ponder otherwise, would make a fool
Snare relieved, an unthinkable deed done
Sting of Shame, back turned forward
Inexplicably, a flash behind the startled one
Back is now no longer forward
A celestial, cloaked and sapphire-bedewed
Upon her crown two lupine ears peek shyly
Tail curled around her body, all that remained
To have seen such a sight, one must think highly
Towards the crown's right side she leans
This she uttters: "Blessed one of Romulus"
Mouths are synced in a union of unions
A fleeting thought, is this the end of us
A questionable existence with icy evidence
Numbness overtaken the vessel of speech
What for this madness could recompense
For lips the hand did reach
Backwards was his journey's choice
Meat there was not for this soul
Upon his ears there falls an unknown voice
Tingling to hear, within, perhaps, a growl
