She, at Mount Lebanon.

It has been years now, dwelt within battlefields and hid within treacherous caves. My eyes burn with bitterness of enmity, expecting a stab from all who come close, even some who follow my lead. I have seen a lot of betrayal and deception in my short life time, ones who claimed love and others who signed their promised on their so called rocks of remembrance. A lot of good blood was wasted, seen a lot of traces for the faithful. All goes in my mind and roams within my mind as I see a new pair of eyes. Friend or foe? False or true? Show me your fruits tree, and please prove me wrong. Prove me that this wasteland is a lushly meadow. It looks like it, but is it? Don't really know, I got my sword bare under my robes, and my dagger is close to my heart, my shield is always ready and never clean. Walking into a village, with all that I am dark, sun burnt, with rags that were once royal robes and hands that were ones innocent. They looked at me, dwellers of cottages and shacks of the mount Lebanon. Some stared at me as I went by, my troops were dismissed to buy themselves some provisions for the journey to come. I wandered alone for a while, seeking some peace and a little relief from the burdens of command. Underneath a tree, I saw a young lady, There she was among the young ones. Radiance of her spirit grabbed my attention, simple yet so free. Smiling I was, It has been a while since I saw a child play and giggle as he ran around, well she was tickling him all around! Till he finally was on the grass surrendering to that overwhelming tickling. I watched, as she hugged him, she was so full of warmth, she could calm him down and she could unleash his young madness. Something in her touch delivered a passion of feelings to this little boy, she could say anything she wanted to with her body language, but not just that. She noticed me as I was watching from a distance, I looked away, hid my eyes within the shadows of my face, but I traced her with my eyes. Somehow, don't know why she approached me. She had that sweet smile, we talked, introducing myself properly: a man of war. She wasn't bothered, nor irritated as all the daughters of these lands, she saw the scars of my past, and the wounds of time. I tried to scare her off in every way I could, pushed her away, but her spirit was so different. She held firm, like the best of my soldiers in battle she head a heart of a lion, couldn't shake her off. Ironic, I like her yet I push her away. I have to, I must. My life isn't like a safe haven for a princess, I dwell amongst thorns and within wastelands; it's not easy. I wouldn't drive my men to their doom, and sure I wouldn't drive a woman into pain. But she is no ordinary woman, I have seen none like her. A princess yet, she dwelt with peasants. A warrior though she lived with civilians. A healer among the sick. She bore her own burdens and a lot more from those who seek her support. She had a secret, and I revealed it. She knows where the springs flow, she knew where to drink the waters of strength, and how to rise for another day. I smile when I think of that. It's close to my secret too. She speaks the language of the old. A language that I speak, and Lord it sure sounds good to hear it! She has this warm and soft voice, resonates a loving mom and a lovely woman. And instinctively as the wild animal that I am, I watch her.. behind the leaves But she worries not, for it seems to me.. that she has found the little boy in me.