Unsettled from the usual rigamarole
I opened the almanac to check what might be headed my way.
I found portraits of the skeletons of rats.
A portentous omen.
Perhaps I was to be double-crossed by
Someone
from a long-buried past?
Perhaps,
I am just paranoid.
No longer the warrior,
A reduction in sound.
A fragment of my initial splendor.
But then,
A cry from the backyard!
Onward, to Danger!
Cerberus, be warned!
My sword is still warm with the cleaving of small trees in my backyard
from this morning’s lawn care.
I am not so far removed
from glory.
You are not so far removed
From Hell.
I will meet door. Air will meet face. Hero will meet villain. Destiny will be faced.
A story will be finished.
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