Poetry9

THE KNIGHT

I return once more in shame,
Exhausted, embittered, the Knight with
No one, save myself to blame.
I return to this ragged Keep...
For it alone is all I reign.
No banners, no songs, no glorious
Cheers for what I have attained.
Not even a maiden to greet me
As I return once more in shame.

You see, the blood I wear, is mine,
So many battles fought and tried;
Years that have been less than kind,
But the Witch and her cards said,
The scars would heal through time.
Yet, I know my valiant deeds will
Never be written in heroic rhyme;
Through all I've endured and
Survived, the blood I wear is mine.

My armour has become a shroud,
The once new gleam now bent and
Stained, doesn't seem to wear so proud,
And two silver lions on a field of gold,
Return again alone, afraid, head bowed.
If only I could rend it from my
Body to stand naked and cry aloud.
My quest is honour bound, though
My armour has become a shroud.

This sword alone still brings me pride,
The Wizard's gift from happier times.
Through death and night, it has been my guide,
My companion, my lover, my saviour
Against the evils I have vied.
A symbol of righteousness to the
Befuddled mass I dreamed of unified.
I find the strength to carry on because
This sword alone still brings me pride.

What a mournful, hollow sound,
As the hooves of this weary steed
Dragged over cobblestone ground.
I have entered my realm, yet
Not one kind face can be found.
To have faced such deaths for
These for which I was crowned,
But to endure this silence,
What a mournful, hollow sound.

Thank God, today there is rain,
And I can ride these bitter streets
As always hiding my pain
Or at least make my castle floor
To weep and dream before I go in again.
So many have counted on me, yet I
Can give no more and still be sane.
These tears I'll never show;
Thank God, today there is rain.

I have but journeyed to my door
To find a young maiden waiting and
Watching, I have felt hate before.
But as I fall from the saddle,
I sense there is something more.
Fresh blood flows, my shield lost,
My sword in mud, but my spirits soar.
Before I died, she smiled at me and
I have but journeyed to my door.

I wake in the comfort of my bed.
The maiden has been so kind when
My soul had known it was dead.
It was the way she understood my
Haunting quest, the things she said.
A promise to wait if I am forced
To roam again, or to choose instead
A quest in love or forever wake
In the comfort of her bed.

� by ~Todd Shaw~
All Rights Reserved