Silent Hero

He stands alo'e in winds that flow,
. . . . . .Gazing at the moon, 
He says not a word, eyes trailing night bird, 
. . . . . .As it sings its lonesome tune.
We've been friends for a year, or so 'twould appear,
. . . . . .Though rare had we words exchanged;
For the fact of the matter - that there was no laughter
. . . . . .Caused me to grow quite deranged.
Although we were men, the difference in ken
. . . . . .Was akin to gold and copper,
His life had no limes, while I lived through hard times;
. . . . . .He and I: the prince and pauper.
In attempt to break silence I fill æther with violence
. . . . . .Of a fury of wit and word,
But n'er he replies with gestures or smiles
. . . . . .As if he hadn't heard.
One day it was late, using tragedy as bait,
. . . . . .I hoped to evoke a response
"That's not good" said he, with neither malice nor glee
. . . . . .Throwing the conversation askance.
On through time we sail, though not a single veil
. . . . . .Of his person is lifted to me,
In depression asunder, I think in its thunder
. . . . . .That he from this friendship longed free.
My destitution grew, stomach small as a shrew
. . . . . .Though not a word I said to him
For I knew he detested my poverty uncontested
. . . . . .Loathing both my life and limb.
Stormclouds garnered about, my deathbed no doubt,
. . . . . .To herald the end of my days,
But out from the shadows came forth my mute hero
. . . . . .Reviving me from my daze.
Upon ashes I lay, unable to say
. . . . . .The love that I carried for you,
He pressed upon my lips, his shadow eclipsed,
. . . . . .Breathing in me life new.
With life given from grace I longed to embrace
. . . . . .My stoic yet loving hero,
It's through deeds not speech that he others' hearts reach
. . . . . .The sill of the soul's window.
But as quick as he came, he was gone again
. . . . . .Without saying adieu,
As if expelled from Heaven, posessing virtures seven,
. . . . . .He left behind a pleasant millieu.
I wanted to thank him in act, but remembered that tact
. . . . . .Demanded a stoic attitude,
And so I back down, from my plan to drown
. . . . . .My hero in gratitude.
Hence today have I strifed, with God-given new life
. . . . . .Ever grateful to he who has saved,
He'll never know, though I wish it were so,
. . . . . .That his kindness I'll someday repay.