shield me

half of him
glistens in the sun
the other burns
– weak as skin is;
it will one day
rot away

but he wears armour
first to protect flesh
then bone
they said
he needs more metal
more iron more

he breaks his leg
they tear it off
replace it with wires
connect it to his heart

not to his mind
not yet
he is still human, after all

he was, wasn’t he?

what he weakens
they take away
inch by inch
he is displaced
by musclefree strength

a body made
numbingly unnerving

he knows,
as long as he is aware,
he is conscious.
is he?

a hand clasps
the iron fist of his

he doesn’t know if
he holds on
– too tight?

but he doesn’t let go
he believes to feel
a hand pressing against the cold
of a palm – that was not his but him

his cold insides
wrap around the one
who follows
even when he chooses to perish
to get lost in himself

when the hold dies
he insists he’ll walk alone
he’ll grasp at the memories
until they fade

with just one hope:
not to live to see the day