We know some are gold souls
in tarnished guise, in an armor of rust
& no lust to remember for those knights
of nights mortal as the most tender
& tired thing opening my eyes
to what cloaks held
the bars, drugs, hunger,
diamond-shining with a promise,
need-deep, to be there
through the dawn only
& not lying should, afterward,
soldiers to the battle,
they not return ever