Lancelot Du Lac where is the she that keeps ghosts at bay? they are restless and marauding sharp scythes into weakened flesh armor is breached the hand that holds the spear truncated, my own I remember manicured nails polished and cooed by asian women of small stature their well being bubbling from endless depths where is mine? dark has fallen I recognize your footfalls the muffling opening and closing doors fading phone lines cut, wire less ghost whispers her love blows the scent of flowers weakening under gentle blows memories of armor pierced old wounds festering keep away: it is contagia, voracious, willful and brash my lovers voice powers me to darkness to depths. surrounded by ghosts fighting shadows the hand is gone the kingdom shattered the shield and armor pierced stone is wet eyes are wet it's warm, in the starry light I cannot see whether red or clear stone is cold my heart rest remember dreaming of a happy life remember a smiling face mirror of my own remember dreaming of stars of endless possibilities remember those days of endless summers the smell of grass and dirt staring into clouds cumulous formations armored knights sitting tall on muscular white chargers tilting against the wind