Every knight swords
A razor sharpened tip
To pare into the souls
Of their many subjects

Sir Very Special Naipaul
An august knight was he.
His felt-tipped glaive
Donned in ink stained valour

It cuts, this sword, above all
Deep into the mind
Bending, shaping its stream
Of understanding

Every knight who swords
A razor sharpened end
Must pen into our hearts
The most noble trend