Warrior

The halls full of people-
Mass in the candle-lit steeple,
These places are so casually regarded-
their occupants unaware of the fire that they started.

Tragedy, loneliness, hate- they burn
in the soul of the evergreen fern-
Like a common shrub he stands,
without peculiar demands.

Just a normal boy,
So the warrior seems-
To the girls a toy,
Thought ignorant- with knowledge he beams.

Not abnormal in stature,
or in outward appearance-
Not outstanding in nomenclature,
only in emotional clearance.

But strength of character he holds,
Other hearts he secretly molds-
The untested valor- Soldier's mettle,
Although he holds no violent metal.

This is the fire started,
Through the aisle parted-
Walks the warrior, stoic,
Inferno, evergreen- poet.