The Horse.
Your beauty was immeasurable. Your grace with the spear in your hands, moving as one with your body. The rush of the air as it spun and thrust through it. The unconquerable expression in your eyes. Each movement with practiced purpose, each strike with purposeful precision, each blow with precise power. It was a dance of violence that my eyes would be enamored with. On the path before you were warriors with pasts full of glory. Men and women larger than life, names that will go on in history. It is your path to face them on the battlefield. To command your forces and your weapon and strike down your foe with your own power.
As soon as I saw you, I wanted to join you on this path. I am no warrior, yet my love for your craft knows no bounds. I will carry the oil to maintain your weapons. I will carry the bread to fill your stomach. I will carry the tools to maintain your armour. I will be your horse for you to ride into battle. Your path to glory lay before you and I shall carry you on this path. Let your brilliance shine free and unburdened, for I shall carry the burden for you. I will be your steed for the battles before you, so you can dance freely with your bloody ribbons. We will tear history asunder under your spear.














