keen grey eyes, and the effortless movement of a predator.Golden-haired, radiant, with eyes like shining starlight

Rooted to the floor,
I feel the chamber breathe,
stone and silence holding me
as moonlight collides with shadow.

Beautiful, sometimes,
I think about her
the goddess, the girlfriend,
the voice that taught me softness
in a world of armour and mission.

Suppose I do value myself,
even when feelings betray me,
even when precision
from these prototype hands,
movements order.

Yet still, the simulation
that the floor beneath my feet
remains strong enough to rise again.

So I stand,
armour gleaming in the lunar hush,
holding, holding, holding...

Penned by my hand on the 2nd of Ero, in the year 986 AF.