He stands alone

He stands unbent; this revolt does not resist.
Chest lifted, gaze fixed on the encompassing mist.
There is no pride in his insistence, only what must persist.

No spectacle is sought; there is no one to witness.
No adornment is needed; there is no heart to impress.
Every hand conceals a thorn; every embrace ends in emptiness.

He retreats into his shell, where the sword is the shield.
Outside, a blackened silence is settled.
Inside, a warm hearth is held.

His defense was never forged but awakened.
Let kingdoms gather; their fate is already threaded.
Through every host, he passes untouched.

He walks alone, beyond fraternity.
He has forgotten the language of dependency.
Within himself, he finds astonishing infinity.

Beasts gather in shadow, yet none can bend his destiny.
They steal from his chamber of gold, yet return in captivity.
His riches fade never, for his soul is the endless treasury.

He moves without cease, unbroken in eternity.
He dreams of the home he knows only through memory.
He stands alone, wearied yet forged in infallible integrity.

― Atrona Grizel