Sentry stands outside the crypt
His torch illuminates stone
Keeper of the dead, alas
Bound to this grave, his own

For so long, he’s guarded
What should never have been
Much too young to lose his life
Fought a war he couldn’t win

They threw him on the battle field
No weapon to keep him safe
He fell at the hands of a mighty king
Left to die, this forsaken waif

Though years have passed, still, is he
A mighty warrior, his vow to the end
To be the one who stands his watch
Unaware he has been condemned

By the men who once stood by him
They will no longer speak his name
Claiming he took from them, victory
They needed someone to take the blame

 

©2021 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Image by kalhh from Pixabay