The Remnant

Red light blinding, holding him in place,
the turn of seconds passing giving thought to paint his face

He turns his head to look about while thinking through his feet,
careful treading on the ground he turns his legs to sneak

The mission lies about the mound of whirling dry-beat sand,
a desert binding all the life and wilting hearty land.

When going through the light-bent gaze of billowing heavy sand,
he sees a face cast through the maze and reaches out a hand.

the skin he touches, soft and taught, gives warmth inside his heart,
he knows she lives and battled through her haughty notions smart.

He smiles less thinking about the girl he touches through the wind,
and starts about when seeing face, not hers did God doth send.

How does one think these seconds long and not let go his hand,
When knife breaks bone and sends him down, his knees about the sand.

He looks up in laden eyes of rogueish illintent,
and closes his upon his tears,
the remnant of the many years,
that loved her through the seconds that they spent.