O! Time and change, thou makest sure
That no man can above thee rise.
Thou plunderest his rightful spoils
Before his ever-aging eyes.
Thou slaughterest companions dear;
The rest turn cowardly and flee
And render helpless, one lone knight
Whose course must end in vanity.
Those who embrac'd his passioned cause
Now glut on haughty insolence
And rail his selfless enterprise
While they but sit upon the fence.
His banner tattered; chainmail torn,
The dents of war obscure his crest.
He turns his steed to misty trails
And searches for a peaceful rest.
The Entropod
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