From across the field I watch you...

In full armor, with sword and shield,
you defend yourself from the horde of fighting men.
Standing alone, you hack indiscriminately,
careless of the arms and legs at your feet...

...everyone is your enemy.

I begin to advance slowly,
through the ranks of men just waiting for their chance.
Clothed in rags and unarmed, I make my way closer,
always watching to see if you show signs of tiring...

...you don't.

The horde shrinks back as I approach you without a word,
my hands out in a gesture of peace.
The battlefield is silent.
You raise your shield and point your sword in warning...

...you're trembling.

Without slowing my approach, I walk right past the sword,
and when I stop, you lower the shield.
One piece at a time, I remove your armor,
The horde, neither noticed, nor needed, slink away...

...defeated.

The last piece I remove is your helmet.
The last remnants of doubt are erased.
You are the one I've been looking for,
and I am the one you won't fight.