O Dark Knight
by Morning Star

Once more she sits by moon’s pale grace,
Upon her tower's stone embrace,
And gazes o’er the shadowed glen,
Where once he rode and vowed again.

He came to her in silver light,
A noble soul, her dark-cloaked knight.
He bore her hence from sorrow’s keep
To halls where stars and fire did sleep.

But when the dusk with silence crept,
She fled the halls where love had slept.
Back to her tower’s haunted stone,
To shield her heart and weep alone.

For deep beneath the woodland’s breath,
The Captor waits with claws of death.
The wind it howls, the branches groan—
And she, afraid, stands all alone.

She dreams in veils of shadowed sleep,
That he might climb the hill so steep,
With sword in hand and flame in chest,
To pierce the dark and grant her rest.

To scale the thorn-wrapped tower high,
To break the spell with battle cry.
To shatter locks and chains unseen—
And take her to his keep serene.

Yet still she waits by stone and flame,
And whispers soft his ancient name.
But fear is strong, and holds her fast—
The knight she loves has long since passed.

The fall below, too deep, too black,
No faith to leap, no strength to act.
She clasps her gown, her breath grown thin—
And he, once near, now sleeps within.

At dawn, no hoof nor helm appears—
No light, no sword, no prince, no tears.
Her captor grins and drags her low,
To dungeons cold where sorrow grows.

She prays to fate, to twist the thread—
To free her heart, though hope lies dead.
For love did come, and love did fade—
Too late the vow that once was made.


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