I pledged you warmth
on all those arctic nights.
To most,
I appeared to be a forgotten rag.
But to you,
my splotches of mud,
my tattered corners,
and my dangling threads,
were familiar –
profoundly contrasting a time when little else was familiar.
To you, I was a knight in shining armor;
valiant and heroic,
in each moment that I swathed you.
My embrace gave you the courage
to endure until morning.
I shielded your tenuous, fragile, body
and somehow convinced you that
my protection was not that of cloth,
but that of steel.
You hid beneath my clench,
too afraid to look out into the unspeakable inhumanity
that became your unfortunate reality.
Nevertheless, the way you needed me
was nothing to how I longed for your presence.
With you, even the treacherous ambiance
was tranquil and serene.
The desolate climate awoke from its morbid fog
when you securely clutched me
so close to your body.
And then on one solemn day,
I was haphazardly used to veil that delicate body of yours
forever.