Turning time

Cast away thy weapons,
keepeth thou vigil no more.
Donneth not thy armor,
but let thy duty pass unto generations untold,
yet to taste the glory of strife.

Let rain wash away thy warpaint,
let wind dry the blood of thine enemies,
be warrior no more.

Breaketh thou thine bloodvows,
brothers-in-arms mayeth thou be no more.
Let free wind touch thine darkened hair,
donneth not thine helm again,
thine heart carriest more strength than any shieldings mayest.

Worketh thou with uncovered hands,
worketh thou in peace and not in war,
becometh the poet once more.