"Old Warrior" by Joy Adele Dalton

"Broken wings, feathers tattered,

Skeletal talons with broken claws,

Once proud beak now crooked and battered,

Hardly a sight to give anyone pause."



"An ear tuft missing, the other nearly so,

Patchy, dusty, faded hide,

Once clear eyes now filmed over and dull,

You could never fill a heart with pride."



"Your ribs show through, as does your spine,

Less muscled meat than skeletal bone,

Moth-eaten, worm-eaten, your voice a mere whine,

How could anyone call you a warrior, old one?"



But hidden beneath the scars and torn flesh,

Past the pain, near his life's start,

Tucked away in a corner where glory is still fresh,

There beats even now a proud gryffon's heart.



The dim, dull eyes still see legions, proud and true.

The tattered wings still know patterns of soar and dive.

The broken claws, once more whole, still rend the enemy in two.

Past battles and long forgotten victories live again.



But once the fighting was over, peace secured,

His skill unecessary, no longer so brave,

The pain he suffered, quietly obscured,

Soon forgotten by those he fought to save.



Still these many days I have come,

Sat at his side, tended to him.

His stories of battle, whether lost or won,

Are before my eyes brought to life again.



Great, brave, and powerful defender,

Protector in you people's time of need,

I have heard your stories and will remember

Every triumph, loss, word, and deed.



And more, and more, proud warrior gryffon,

I will tell your stories, loud shall be my call.

Never again to be forgotten,

Your sacrifices remembered by one and all.