Poem 143, Sonnet 77: Dormition Poem by Samer Madbak

Lay down your head, your helmet spent and sore
You earned your sacred lull, the final spoil
Tear out the cuirass of this mortal coil
Repose awhile, at length, for evermore
Let me embrace these shoulders, worn by war
The vambrace and them spaulders, torn with toil
And kiss the gauntlets, blessed by hallowed moil
And at your solemn greaves kneel and adore
There is no other quest, no crowning chore
Your final brigandine is flow'rs and soil
A rosary enfolds your faulds, and oil
Anoints your galley as it sails ashore
A knight in radiant armor, saint at core
A mother glorified at heaven's door.

Beirut
August 15th 2019