The heart is no titan

I am nothing known nor meant, no titan,
no shepherd immune to the heart's deceit,
where a warlord's keep still towers, and my
feet tread back and forth at the gates, asleep

with no means of retreat. My defense has
flown apart, exposed as mere bone-molded
arrows and spears, not rock, not steel; no fire
to forge such a blade as your heart has pressed

to me. And what for the whisper, the hope
of what this land could be? There was a wind
come from far overseas, and I sailed out
with a quest, a prayer for something fierce

and wondrous, but your walls are yet unbreeched,
and your fortress no sweet shelter for me.