Barry Reese – Writer of Badass heroes

Beauty wrapped in silk and silver, shining bright,
you drift through my thoughts like a queen of old,
half-veiled in mystery, draped in moonlit gold,
while I search for a reason beneath your light.

Let me drink the pain from your weary lips,
the grief that lingers where no eye can see,
the silent wounds you carry so carefully,
and leave their bitterness within my lips.

Give me your sorrows in alabaster jars,
each one a burden your spirit should not keep,
each one a wound too ancient and too deep,
and I’ll hide them away beneath the stars.

Like priests of old beside the sacred Nile,
I would name every hurt and every fear,
speaking softly so the darkness cannot hear,
just to see your guarded heart relearn a smile.

Bury me with you beneath the desert sand,
where the jackal gods still wander after dusk,
where kingdoms crumble slowly back to dust,
and let eternity remember my hand.

Let me wash clean the sins you cannot name,
the regrets that visit when the world is still,
the ghosts that linger despite your iron will,
until their whispers finally lose your name.

When your heart is weighed against the sacred feather,
may no sorrow cling to it, no grief remain,
no chain of guilt, no memory of pain,
and may its balance rest as light as feather.

Beauty wrapped in silk and silver, hear my plea,
for I seek no throne, no monument, no fame,
and ask for nothing written in my name,
except a little place somewhere in your memory.