Painstricken, bereaved,
lost, and bleeding,
he stumbled,
fled,
sought,
solace from hurt.

Blood streamed down his hands,
dripping on the grass,
the dying leaves,
twigs cracked,
soaked in red,
from his mailed feet.

And a glimpse of sun
caught his shoulder,
and brilliance began!
Polished armor, tainted now
with gore reflected
Sunlight! MORE MORE MORE!
He was a star walking
through the Hazel Wood.
His crimson trail reached for miles.

Sorrow struck tears saturated her
face. Delicate cheeks, earthen eyes,
straw silken hair,
Gentle skin,
felt each drop of vitality hit
her Wood's soil.

The dryad of the Hazel Wood
walked to intersept,
to aleviate the hurts,
Glided, ran, flew,
to the bleeding Knight's aid.

Blurred sight, agony
wracking vision,
broken flesh protested
to each tourturing step.
And through distressed
eyelids, he sees
a Vision.
Beauty appears from
the trees.

She places her hands on his Platemail
shoulders, taking the broken burden
from his feet.
Her skin and leafen clothing
turns crimson with her near
carcass cloak.

She bears him to her glade,
her Centered home within
the wilderness wood.
And places him on
an island of moss and
stone, trees and sparse
seedlings.
Dying,
he is the centerpiece
to her Nature altar.

Already his blood is thin,
"Please," he pleas, "please..
Lift me back up, help me... Please,
Life..."

Curiously, she leans over him,
breathing, touching his chest,
He can feel her hands on his skin,
still wearing his steel case...
With one word, she responds,
"Why?"

Confused and panic-ruled,
sound like autumn winds through
tired leaves issues from white lips,
"Save, me. Please. I need, Life...
need, to help, my land... anything,
for you... gold... protection..
help... me.."

And finally, gurgling, he
surcumbs to the encroaching
darkness...

Days pass. Clouds cover,
and unveil the sun,
rains fall,
and return to the gods,
the sun circles,
and the moon fills and empties,
leaves,
grow,
like skin does,
and blood returns,
color blooms,
life quickens.

Gasping, heaving,
he wakes.
Healed, whole, healthy.
Shocked.
Confused.

She sits nearby,
and speaks:
"You've wakened, lived,
welcomed back, like a
branch fallen and replanted,
but with my strength, my power,
imbued in you, my promise given,
you'll live till I claim your life."

"My honor given, my pain forgotten,
I'll finish my deeds and done
return. You I pledge my life,
This one, i own no more,
for you, the gift given, returned.
This home, now mine, Will be
my final tomb."

With pleasure mounting,
the sounds of previously
vacant nature, sounds
symphanies in his brain,
the Knight rises and leaves,
Rejuvinated, alive, souless,
alone.

Scralled in a fledgling oak,
there reads a script:

"For the time spent here in pain,
the pleasures more I've never Known,
I promise full, my life for you,
My home, your glade, Become one."