A heroic poem
|He buckles on his armour, straps his broadsword to his side.|
He saddles up his destrier then heads off on his ride.
His road wends ever westward. Is his quest to catch the sun?
He rides on never knowing when his journey will be done.
He battles with the ogres and the demons in his path.
Consigning them to netherhells beneath his righteous wrath.
Cleansing weapons, patching armour he begins his trek anew
Almost sad is he to realize his latest battle's through.
As moonlight dapples treetops and first stars begin to light
He spurs his horse from off the road and settles in for night.
His steed is fed and brushed, his bedroll laid upon the ground.
He slips into his slumber lulled to sleep by forest sound.
His dreams are full of blood and ash and fire against the skies.
Of gut-stabbed lads slow dying and their lasses' mourning cries.
Of battles won and causes lost, the dronings of some priest.
He's slept but hardly rested when the sun blooms to the east.
Cavalier and errant knight, Defender of the Faith
Few he served would recognize this haunted, travelling wraith.
The years of selling sword and skills have reaped a heavy toll.
His days are bleak and mirthless though they once were rich and full.
The kingdom and the life he left he scarcely can recall.
Or the face of she he promised he'd ride back for in the Fall.
So young was he and how he dreamed of gold and fame he'd take
Of what a home he'd build her once he'd earned a fitting stake.
But paths diverge and lead a man from off his chosen track.
Some roads once they are taken lead but one way...never back.
And days grow into months and then,at length, give birth to years.
Young women sometimes may not wait till absent beau appears.
And so he peddles sweat and pain forsaking hope and love.
Crushing down his sorrows with a steel and leather glove.
Hacking down the sadness, fear, regret that plague his soul
By using any weapon he can bring to his control.
Off in some far and distant land, bereft of hearth and home
He'll face the final battle on the path he chose to roam.
Yet on that fateful day the knight will, finally, not prevail.
And thus will end the chapters of this paladin's sad tale.
Bleached bones and rusting armour will his legacy comprise.
Gone from off this mortal coil to ride the endless skies.
Achieving, in the end, the prize he sought upon his quest.
An end to all the fighting and a peaceful, dreamless rest.