dream catcher

The lone warrior lay wounded the sole survivor of his cursed troop, the foolhardy rushed head long into the battle and finally snared ‘tween wood and blade; one remained wounded, blood draining from the many orifices riddled throughout his body a broken sword clutched in his right. He lay there near the valley of shadow looming over, as life trickled to the ground cursing the feet of the old willow, the gods watch on; what is the life of one man worth. Yet he submitted to death, death that rode beside him now turned against him there by the valley of shadow he submitted to the prince of darkness, yet death has to pity to free those from suffering, as a shadow he remained ever fleeing from light yet never far from his victim.
Minutes went by a second at a time hours passed away a minute at a time, days moved along an hour unnumbered, yet death chose to wait. The lone warrior shifted from one world to the other the fight raged on in body and soul yet his mind was dead to all the chaos.
In his slumber yet he thought on one that he left back the one whom he loves the last smile the, the last glance, the twinkle in he eye, her hair rivers of black silk her soft touch.
One dreams yet oblivious to the chaos surrounding his mortal flesh for her. Shall she ever come to awaken him or for ever shall one have to wait.