Duel in the moonlight, Op. 1

I.
Arbitrated by the silvery vizier of sky,
their match took place under her fair gaze,
and that of her innumerable consorts. Weary
from their travels, they were elated by the
first sight of each other; they both recognised
the bond that had brought them together. It
was a sin, of this both agreed most vehemently,
a crime unatoned for, and this ruined tor was
to be their courtroom. The expected punishment
was know to be cold and harsh, read only to
one of them; the other would leave unscathed
(but not unchanged, this was not affirmed).
Though there were no attendants and no wardens,
one could still hear a phrase uttered in the wind:
"Leave your life in the cloakroom, only past
and present may enter!"

II.
As if they were actors, who, representing
peacocks and phaesants would discard their heavy
cloaks upon entrance, they threw away their tailcoats
of black and white, of silk and velvet. The coats they
had carried were not colored thus with any
alignment, no! merely, like chess-pieces, of
colors of opposition, colors equally entitled.
Like serpents they uncoiled from hibernation of
not flesh but mind, and drew their silver edged
estocs. A match was on! and every step,
every movement from the first salute to
unsheathing of one's now scarlet dyed arm was
mindful. Dance it was! a walz of the royalty
of felines, hidden behind mask of formalities
and antagonisms, and like in every dance,
first step told the speed of movements.

III.
Under dark vizier's silver glow their blades'
embraced and kissed, emitting a crystalline
sound with their every meet. Feet dancing
a complex dance atop marble tiles that remained
of what once had been, they circled each other,
edging closer with every tap of soles.
Quick to dodge away after slightest contact, their eyes,
like empty mirrors from which naught was reflected
hinted of no weaknesses. Neither of them was inexperienced,
yet such mastery and finesse as this could only
be seen during a solitary moment, for this quality
of beauty was both fleeting and incidental...
Though by no means static, their performance
was painted as a single, vivid picture, yet one
that no brush could encapture.
Behold! under her fair gaze a delusion was played
out, and embers of night were the only overseers
for those duelers under her silver light.

IV.
There were no emotions, no pathos present.
Neither love nor hate had a place here,
and no trace of rage scarred the faces of
those two cavaliers. Yet a connection there was,
one that was established all more firmly with
every shriek of meeting brands.
Brothers they could have been, or lovers of first order,
and this dreary meet no longer a suit,
but rather an inauguration, and where once
had stood an emotionless facade now appeared
a slight smile, one that implied of an end.
It was not the final move, no, but rather like a flickering
in the horizon, a shade of what could be a lapse and
a series of intrigues that no longer could not be...
and if ever there was a reason to smile, this was it!
for the borderline between sorrow and triumph
was on that moment like a ghost: a rift that proud
and exalted could almost cross.

V.
Thus it came to be, that just as yearning
precedes loss, no amount of moves between
the first and last could stretch their distance wide enough.
No brotherhood and no love would suffice,
no silver light to wash away the color of crimson.
All and everything present seemed to feel it,
for no longer did the blades sing but cried in agony
a song of despair. In an instance a weakness was perceived,
and one leap was to be enough! Yet it was too soon,
for it was speed that was inferior to wit,
and as such rewarded... It was Cheetah that
was slain by Serpent, his fangs now the
color of his heartblood. His smile was gone,
though none could tell if it was to bloom again,
before his needle had dried of red,
and even because of that! He had felled his brother,
his lover, one he had cherished for so long...
but winner sheds no tears.