A warrior walking
down a woodland path,
bare-foot,
weapon sheathed
relying on his self confidence,
not his ego or mere metal
to shield him.

His enemies, he knows, are within.
And should he ever draw,
both sides have lost

His step: part march,
part trudge,
part meander,
part skip,
part dance,
all with a limp.

A wry grin escapes his lips
at the glass, rocks and bones
that he passed. Isolated,
but not alone.