The Sentinel

The night is quiet and still.
An evening breeze blows softly,
Touching my face with frigid fingers
Icy cold as death.
I stand alone against the night,
No one disturbs my silent solitude.
Hope is but a flimsy cloak
Against the world outside.
But though I stand alone
In the bitter cold,
My thoughts, and my heart,
Lie far away.
The stars twinkle overhead.
Theirs is a light as coldly distant
As the chill night wind.
The baleful eye of the moon
Watches with an impersonal air.
But the knowledge that someone cares
Makes me feel safe, protected, warm.
I stand, defiant against the cold,
And the dark of night,
For I know I shall never fight alone.