Battlefields drenched in blood,

Screams of agony rip through the air,

As the temptress stands before me,

And I raise broken steel,

She smiles, the blood from wounds,

Pouring down her arms, 

Yet she stands there,

Wearing a crimson robe of pleasure

The pain unfelt and unconcerning,

HER.

I feel my rage rise as fire surrounds,

Turning bodies that surround her,

Into ashes from the sky,

And she laughs as I race for the kill,

Her arms spread wide to the sky,

Then she's gone,

And I stumble as the broken blade,

A weapon held since birth,

Misses it's non-existent target,

And she's suddenly holding me from behind,

She whispers sickly-sweet words,

Aged milk to my ear,

And dares to touch me as a lover,

Till I swing again and she's in front of me

As the blade, 

A trusted friend, 

Lightly carves its name into my back,

Once again she laughs as I rage,

Her eyes red as my own,

And I laugh along as the battles-blood,

Drips into my heart,

And I strike again,

And again,

And again,

And again,

And again...

Tireless though I am,

Strong though I am,

Blessed though I am...

She is faster than I,

She is smarter than I,

She is Cursed to equal my blessing...

As our blood touches earth,

The great mothers womb stretching to accept it,

The barren land becomes fire and stone, 

Ash and lightning,

Darkness and death,

And so it is,

As always,

My failure.

For I fail to protect the Master I love,

For whom I remain,

Unchanged,

Unbroken,

Tireless...

Strong.

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(A/N) Ares. 

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Till next time!

Your Poet,

~ShadeFinder<(0^0)>