the lonely
titular warrior
never won
any battles.

but she had
no choice

that is why
they called her
the lonely
warrior.

the single
swordwielder,

dies lush in
folklore,
but she dies covered
in blood and shit

like every
nameless soldier.

there are no
dragons
to slay
in abrupt reality.

no princes
to peel

from cruel enchantments,
crumbling castles,
vicious step-parents,
or jealous fairies.

she speaks alone,
alone,

in battlefield pits
to nobody.
what good,
is your war cry?

what good,
is the war cry

from your sweet
wound of a mouth
when said
into nothing?