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Grahame Jun 2014

Fern rises and looks out of her window.
Silver shards of moonlight lick the lawn.
She who once felt gay and oh so joyous,
Now feels oh so desolate and lorn.

Will she ever find true love again?
She before has never felt so low.
Should she, for love, continue searching?
Or give up by ending it here and now?

Outside, all is monochrome and still,
Inside, Fern is still and very sad.
Will she feel happiness again?
Who knows how long she’ll feel this bad?

At the stroke of midnight, there’s a change,
There seems to be a disturbance in the air.
Gradually something seems to materialise
On the lawn, a shape, come from where?

It is a knight, armoured cap-à-pie,
On a horse, for war caparisoned.
From his saddle hangs a jousting shield,
A silver moon on it is designed.

A white plume is mounted on his helmet,
On his lance a white pennon is tied.
The knight looks at her, at her window,
Silently he sits and does bide.

He raises a gauntleted hand and beckons,
Should she stay in, or venture out?
In her white nightdress she goes downstairs,
Deciding to see what it’s all about.

Cautiously she opens up the door,
And putting her head out, looks outside.
The knight still sits, patiently waiting.
Fern wonders what might now betide.

Slipping on an old pair of shoes,
She slowly walks over to the knight.
In her wake she leaves a dewy trail,
And as she nears, the knight fades from sight.

Fern wonders what this all might mean,
Is she dreaming or is she awake?
Is, what she has seen, been real?
Or has she made a big mistake?

Then, whilst standing there in wonder,
She happens to look down at the ground.
Where the knight was, the grass is trampled,
As though a horse has curvetted around.

Then she hears a sound from behind her,
And startled, Fern quickly turns round.
Her house no longer seems to be there,
In its stead, a keep there is stound.

The sound she hears is a woman calling,
“My Lady, please come back here inside.
You shouldn’t be alone out in the dark,
Please come back and in your chamber bide.”

The woman, from a window, looks at Fern.
“Excuse me, are you addressing me?”
Fern directs the question at the woman,
Who replies to her, “Of course, my Lady.”

“’Tis not safe out at this time of night,
And you are in your night attire dight,
So if someone, of you, catches sight,
You’ll not be seen in a good light.”

Before Fern can think of what to say,
She hears the sound of a galloping horse.
It is getting nearer in the dark.
She hopes that things will now not get worse.

“My Lady, quickly, please get you inside,
Do not just stand there as if dazed.
Hurry now, before it it too late.”
Fern, though, does stand there amazed.

Approaching through the night is a horse,
The one she’d seen before on her lawn,
The same knight is seated on its back,
Though now the pennant on his lance is torn.

The horse stops right next to Fern,
And caracoles to bring them face-to-face.
The knight lowers his lance to show his pennant,
Which Fern sees is a torn fragment of white lace.

The knight again does sit in stilly silence,
He waits, and does not make any demand.
Then lowers his lance to touch her nightdress’s hem,
When suddenly, Fern does understand.

The hem of her nightdress is lace trimmed,
So Fern bends, and seizes it in hand.
Then with a sharp tug she tears it off,
Removing it in a single strand.

The knight raises up his lance higher,
The old lace, from the lance, Fern does remove.
Then ties the furbelow on very tightly,
Saying, “Please take this favour with my love.”

The knight dips his lance in salute,
Then turns his horse, back down the road to face.
His spurs lightly touch the horse’s flanks,
Which straight away gallops off at pace.

Fern walks across to the keep.
The woman opens the main door wide.
Fern steps across the threshold,
And now, in her own house is inside.

She turns to look back across the lawn,
Which is still lit by the silver moon’s light.
The lawn is now smooth and unblemished,
With no marks caused by the steed of the knight.

Fern goes upstairs to her bedroom.
Has this all been a dream ere now?
Then, as she gets back into bed,
She sees her nightdress lacks its furbelow.

Fern remembers her nightdress has a pocket,
And into it, her hand she does place,
Then, to her utter amazement,
She pulls out a fragment of torn lace.

Fern wonders at what’s just happened,
Was it real, or only in her mind?
If it was just her imagination,
Why has she been able, the fragment to find?

Eventually Fern drifts off to sleep,
Waking with the chorus of the dawn.
Although she doesn’t think she has changed,
She no longer feels quite so forlorn.

“Why does the knight appear to me?
Why has he only come at night?
Is he trying to find out if he’s wanted?
Is he trying to make something right?”

Later on that day Fern walks to town,
And heads for the library to find,
If there are any references to knights
That might help to ease her troubled mind.

Fern does find a story of a knight,
Who had a moon device on his shield.
He was very brave in the fight,
And to a foe would never yield.

He had been commissioned to take a message,
To a lord, by order of the king.
It was to be delivered urgently,
And he was not to stop for anything.

He was nearly there when something happened.
By the side of the highway lay a maid.
Being a chivalrous knight, he should have stopped,
Instead, he carried on, not giving aid.

He delivered the message to the lord,
And later was seated, drinking in the hall,
When there entered in some serving men,
Carrying on their shoulders a shrouded pall.

They lay down their burden on the floor,
And without having said a word,
Reverently uncovered the face of a body.
It was the lady of the lord.

Then entered in another knight,
Who stepped up to the lord, and said,
“On our way here, we found your lady.
She was wounded, and now, alas, she’s dead.”

The other knight continued with his story,
“Seemingly, she had been robbed and *****.
There was no sign of the perpetrators,
We think they’d been disturbed, and then escaped.”

“Perhaps if we had managed to come sooner,
We might have been there to prevent this crime.
However, it seems the Fates conspired against us,
So we were not there to help in time.”

The Knight of the Moon sat there horror-struck,
He knew if he’d not been so keen to arrive,
Though helped, as his conscience had dictated,
The lady might yet even be alive.

Instead of speaking up, he stayed silent,
And never about this matter spoke a word.
Then he rose, and gave his condolence,
And went out from the presence of the lord.

The lady was removed to lie in state,
The Knight of the Moon went, to look at her face.
He knelt there in silent prayer awhile,
Then, from her dress, removed a length of lace.

He accoutred himself in his full armour,
Then rode from the keep that very night.
He left a note, stating his omission,
And of him, no-one ever saw a sight.

Fern is very sad to read this story.
What had then been in the knight’s mind?
Had he ridden off to end his disgrace,
Or the perpetrators, gone to find?

Fern now makes her thoughtful way home,
Hoping he’d found surcease from his torment,
Wondering what to him had befallen,
And if, for his lapse, he’d made atonement.

Fern reaches home rather tired,
So lies down on her bed, then falls asleep.
She dreams of knights in armour and fair damsels,
And jousting in the grounds of the keep.

Eventually, Fern wakens from her slumber.
She lies for a moment in her bed.
Yet again she thinks about her dream.
Was it real, or made up in her head.

“Perhaps,” she thinks, “I’m just on the rebound,
Because I’m still in mourning for my love.
And being of a romantic nature,
Dreaming of knights this does this prove.”

“Knights should have been chivalrous and kind,
Treating damsels in distress with care.
Except, when a knight I truly needed,
As it happened, there was not one there.”

“On that night, if we’d had some help,
My husband might still be alive.
Now, he has been taken from me,
And I feel that alone I cannot thrive.”

“However, life must go on as usual,
I should carry on, if just for him,
And so, perhaps, I should cease this moping,
And try to get on with my life again.”

So Fern gets up, refreshed from her nap,
Then decides, after eating, to go out.
That she must now get herself together,
Fern is not left in any doubt.

“Perhaps a short drive into the country,
And to stretch my legs, a gentle walk.
However, I will get on much quicker,
If I do not, to myself, talk.”

Fern puts on her coat and gets her bag,
Then goes out and walks to her car.
This is the first time that she’s driven
Since losing him, so she’ll not go too far.

Fern unlocks her car, and sits inside,
Then she is overcome with fear.
“Suppose, now, I am too scared to drive.
Perhaps I’d feel better if help was near.”

“Come on Fern, pull yourself together!
Feel the fear and do it anyway!
If you don’t do it now, then when?
Start the car, and let’s be on our way.”

So having given herself a little lecture,
Fern belts up, and pulls out of her drive.
Then, not really knowing where she’s headed,
Off she goes to see where she’ll arrive.

Fern motors out into the country,
And following a lane, drives up a hill.
At the top she parks and gets out.
Everything seems peaceful and so still.

She aimlessly ambles round the hill top,
And reads a notice saying it was a fort.
Then, Fern drifts off into a daydream,
And views the panorama without thought.

In her mind’s eye she sees a castle,
Decorated with many banners bright.
A tournament seems to be in progress,
And the winner is, of course, her moonlit knight.

Eventually, Fern becomes aware,
That she has gone some distance from her car.
So she slowly makes her way back to it.
She hadn’t meant to walk quite so far.

The shades of night are now falling fast,
And everything is starting to look grey.
So Fern unlocks her car and gets inside,
Ready to be getting on her way.

Slowly, she starts off down the hill,
The lane is very narrow with high hedges,
The moon is hidden behind some lowering clouds,
The track’s overgrown with grass and sedges.

Somehow, she’s gone a different way.
In the dark, everything seems wrong.
Fern is now starting to get worried,
And wonders why the track seems so long.

Eventually, she debouches onto a road,
Though she is not sure exactly where.
Fern is by now really anxious,
Then suddenly, gets an awful scare.

It looks just like the road they had been travelling,
When her husband lost control of the car.
It had skidded, spun and then rolled over,
The door had opened, and Fern had been flung far.

Her husband had still been trapped inside,
When it suddenly erupted into flame.
Fern could only stand and helplessly watch,
All the while loudly screaming his name.

No-one was around at that moment,
Perhaps someone might have pulled him out.
Then, as other motorists arrived,
They phoned for help, while listening to Fern shout.

Quite soon, a fire-engine came,
Closely followed by an ambulance.
The fire was eventually put out,
And Fern driven off still in a trance.

That had been several weeks ago,
And Fern has not since passed that place.
Now, it looks as if she is there,
And will, her darkest moment, have to face.

Then, to her horror, she sees a shape,
Dimly lit by her headlamps’ light.
It is a fallen motorcycle,
And the rider’s lying by it, just in sight.

Fern stops her car, and runs up to him.
Perhaps she can be of some aid.
As she approaches, the man gets up,
While a voice behind her says, “Don’t be afraid.”

“You just do exactly as we tell you.
We only want your money, and some fun.
Then, you can be on your way.
Do not even think of trying to run.”

The first man picks up the bike,
And pushes it to the road’s side.
The other man comes up close to Fern,
Who wonders again what might betide.

The wind blows the clouds across the sky,
Bringing the bright moon into sight.
The road that ’til then was hidden in darkness,
Is now lit with shards of silver light.

Fern then hears the sound of a horse,
Approaching through the wild and windy night.
The jingling of trappings can be heard,
And Fern thinks that now all will be right.

The courser slowly comes into view,
With the same knight seated on its back.
His lance is not couched, it’s held *****,
And the reins are loosely held, and quite slack.

Casually the steed comes to a stop,
And lowers his head to nibble at some grass.
The men, uncertain, both watch the knight,
While each wonders what might now pass.

One of them goes up to the bike,
And opens up the box on the back,
Then takes from it two crash helmets,
And a length of chain, which dangles slack.

He throws a helmet to his crony,
And they each fasten one upon their head.
Then they both turn to face the knight,
Who has not a word utteréd.

The one with the chain lifts it up,
And menacingly starts to whirl it around,
Then slowly walks towards the knight,
Who casually sits, not giving ground.

The other man reaches into his pocket,
Pulling out a wicked flick-knife,
And then, letting the blade spring open,
Prepares to join in with the strife.

He circles round the knight to the rear,
As the other man comes in from the side,
When the knight drops his lance into rest,
And suddenly, off he does ride.

He charges away from the men,
And gallops right past Fern at full speed.
Then, his lance aimed at the motorcycle,
He urges on his racing steed.

The lance pierces into the fuel tank,
And knocks the bike over in the road.
Petrol gushes out in a torrent,
And soon over the tarmac it has flowed.

The lance is broken in twain, the knight drops it,
And very quickly turns his horse about,
Then as he gallops back past the bike,
Both of the men start to shout.

Sparks from the horse’s hoofs come flying,
Igniting the petrol on the road.
Fern gives a shrill scream in panic,
Thinking that the bike might now explode.

The man with the chain wildly flails it,
Desperately trying to hit the horse’s head.
The knight strikes the man with a morning-star,
Who drops down, just like one who’s dead.

The knight then dismounts, drawing his sword,
And silently strides towards the other man,
Who flings away his knife, and starts running,
Fleeing just as fast as ever he can.

Fern sees the fallen man get up,
Rising groggily to stagger to his feet.
He looks at them, and then he turns away,
Slowly stumbling off, not yet too fleet.

Suddenly, the night becomes quite dark.
Clouds again, do the moon obscure.
Fern turns to try to thank the knight.
He’s gone, though she now feels secure.

Confidently she walks towards the bike,
And sees the lance by the fire’s light.
Fern bends and unties the lace from the lance,
And slowly walks back with it through the night.

She reaches her car, and gets inside,
Then starts driving off to get back home.
Belatedly thinking of her husband,
And wondering what next to her will come.

Safely arriving home, Fern parks the car,
And getting out, she sees on the lawn,
A pavilion has there been erected,
Turned rosaceous by the coming dawn.

The horse is also there, grazing tackless,
And by the entrance hangs a well-known targe.
Fern carefully goes and looks inside.
The pavilion’s quite small, not very large.

She sees the knight, kneeling on the ground,
His head bowed, as like one in prayer.
He holds his sword in front, just like a cross,
Of her, he seems not to be aware.

Quietly, Fern withdraws from the pavilion,
Then thinks, of the horse, to get a sight.
It’s nowhere to be seen, she turns around,
The pavilion’s now bathed in golden light.

As Fern stares at it in wonder,
See thinks that she can hear an ætherial sound,
Like a choir of heavenly angels singing,
And the pavilion vanishes from the ground.

Fern sees only a sword, stuck in the lawn,
And hanging from a nearby tree, the shield.
Then reliving what occurred in the night,
To tears of relief, Fern does yield.

She wonders if the knight has been translated,
Having now atoned for his mistake,
And Fern hopes that he’s managed to find peace,
For risking his life for her sake.

Fern hangs the sword above her bed,
And fastens the shield over her door.
She feels much more confidant now,
And is able to do so much more.

Sometimes though, when the moon is full,
Fern goes outside at midnight,
Carrying in her hand a strip of lace,
And seems just to vanish from sight.

At that time, if anyone was around,
They might then hear an unusual sound,
As though a fully accoutred
Sombro Sep 2015
The river valley was cleaved beneath the rushing horse’s hooves
As dragons beat against the sky, to roar, and so to prove
The might of beasts against the foe, this ‘mankind’ they oppose
But black the night was, truly so, Sir Crowshirron composed.

His lance flew banners, dark as jets, into the dragon’s keep
He split the fire with shield and steed in one almighty leap.
The castle stood of smelted glass as grey as stormy skies
Each tower stood as instrument to ring the dragon cries.

The sturdy gate split as a twig, weak to the black knight’s sword
And then the drawbridge split asunder, board by petty board.
Inside the court the black knight strode, cape flayed the dragon fire
Up marched the knight, dark steel alight up to its crooked spire.

There he saw the demon’s claw clutching ill-gained prize
A screaming child, from pastures wild, with terror in its eyes.
The Black Knight gave no motion and no outcry passed his helm
He stood up taller, prouder still and challenged the dragon’s realm.

They say that lightning split the sky about the battle field
And that after days of endless rage the knight refused to yield.
Down swooped the dragon, teeth and claws, to shower fire and rain
But still the knight would hold his sword and stand to fight again.

Until the moon propped up the sky and broke the dragon’s flight
The black beast  smashed into the keep, split by the black knight’s might
There it lay, curled in dismay, smote by mortal hand
He told the dragon, word and sword, to leave this fragile land.

But dying breaths of stricken foes stilled breathed their poisoned fire
The dragon’s head, eyes running red, made clear his cruel desire
‘Finish me whelp, lest you do, I’ll return and seek your defeat,
But if I die, know this, you shall not be thanked for this brave feat.

A black knight you are and so shall be until the end of days
For all will see a soulless husk, not worthy of their praise.
For dragonslayer you are within, a man with strength and might.

Yet your soul will know that they see only a Black Knight.
They’ll run you from their homes at dawn, they’ll make you see the light
For words from mouths as black as tar make weak the dragon’s bite.’

The Knight looked down upon the beast and ‘fore he stabbed his lance
He showed his smile unto the brute and broke the dragon trance
With floating heart he took the child back to her anxious town
He set her down in front of those who gave a blackened frown.

‘We cannot take this child again, her soul is sure corrupted
You and the beast, two monsters, have held her uninterrupted
For though we good folk try to live there are demons such as you
And now that you have seen her she is not the child we knew. ‘

The black knight took the child back to the shattered dragon’s keep
And seeing the slain corpse of the beast the child began to weep
‘He kept me here, with gifts and love and laughter for my heart
He told me he’d no family and now he had a start

‘Sweet daughter’ he would call to me, ‘I wish to see you please’
And still you slew him, seeing threat, not person, with great ease.
We are a kind, us three poor souls, not like the ‘normal’ men
we give ourselves to people who will ne’er love us again.’

There the knight stood, till the moon lit the sight
Of gentle dragon without his might
‘Family.’ He said softly, and shut his eyes tight,
‘I could have had a family.’ Wept the black, the broken knight.
A comment on prejudice and discrimination, not only based on physical attributes, but emotional as well.
A Haseley Jul 2010
Come closer my child,
do mind the fire.
and I’ll tell you the tale of
Wayne, the Good Squire.
It was once, long ago,
in the kingdom of Kam,
that a cruel, recreant knight
controlled the whole land.
He had taken the kingdom
through fiery force,
And though many had died,
he showed no remorse.
He captured the castle with
hatred and slaughter.
No one remained, except the
king’s daughter.
For she was the picture of
beauty and grace.
The cruel knight fell in love
when he looked at her face.
And so there they remained,
the princess and her captor.
The kingdom was silent,
devoid of all laughter.
In a neighboring kingdom there
lived a knight.
With his armor all shined he
was a formidable sight.
He had heard of the story with a
mixture of glee,
for he needed to prove himself
to the community.
But he was young and stupid,
as most of them are.
He had not the brains,
he was only good for a spar.
So his kind, caring father
sent him off with a squire.
His name was Wayne,
and his wits were much higher.
The knight went for glory and
the love of a girl,
while the squire went for money
from the hand of an earl.
And so off they set, our
squire and knight.
They were well prepared for all
but a difficult fight.
They travelled for days without
sign of the castle,
Din the knight began to
complain, cursing such hassle.
He wanted the glory
but none of the trouble.
And while he was toiling
his anger did double.
He wanted to turn back, to
give it all up.
To go home and sleep with
ale in his cup.
But Wayne the Good Squire
convinced him to stay,
promising his fame in just one
more day.
This promise was good for on
the next night,
a castle loomed just ahead:
the cause of their plight.
The knight rode ahead,
ready for battle.
But Wayne followed slowly,
wary even of cattle.
Our Din was too loud,
too sure of himself.
He would soon be a trophy  
above the castle shelf.
The Lord of the castle,
the cruel knight named Lor,
knew he was there before
he came to the door.
His armor was on,
his sword by his side
he planned to be done with it
before he even stepped outside.
But Wayne had been watching
him prepare for the fight.
He rushed down the hill to warn
his burdensome knight.
He had concocted a plan above
either knights’ thinking.
He would switch places with
Din, faster than blinking.
He would go to the door
in place of the knight,
and when the door opened,
Din would give Lor a fight!
So Din went to hide in a bush
near the door,
while Wayne rode up proudly,
looking ready for war.
But when the doors opened,
there stood a man.
He was so large and monstrous,
Din forgot the whole plan.
He sat frozen in fear,
hidden in the bush,
not even brave enough to give
Wayne’s horse a push.
And so Wayne was left alone to
face the giant knight.
Lor looked upon him with a
laugh of delight.
But the brazen, young squire
refused to run back.
He charged without thinking,
his sword ready to attack.
Lor was astonished,
the squire caught him off guard.
The sword hit its target,
whacking Lor hard.
Dazed from the blow, the cruel
knight fell to the ground.
Wayne struck him once more,
and Lor died with no sound.
Gasping for breath after his
arduous fight,
Wayne fell out of the saddle
still dressed as a knight.
He stumbled into the castle to
make himself known,
but all he could manage was a
soft, feeble moan.
He fell to his knees and
curled into a heap.
Unable to stay awake,
he gave into sleep.
He awoke to find himself in
a soft bed,
he was so warm and content
he thought himself dead.
But then he saw a figure
slouched in a chair,
he saw it was Din, but he
could do nothing but stare.
Din saw him looking and
quickly sat straight,
his eyes were angry, his face
contorted with hate.
He accused Wayne of stealing
his glory and good name;
out from the beginning to
capture his fame.
Din got up from the chair and
moved with a knife,
and so Wayne was in yet
another struggle for life.
The fight was short-lived
for when Din stood he swayed.
And when he went to attack,
he fell onto his blade.
Wayne was astonished, it just
couldn’t be;
the knight that lay dead was the
one that started this spree.
He had planned to **** him
for fake lies and deceit.
So Wayne felt no remorse for
the man at his feet.
He left his room, in search of
the princess,
in hopes that he would return
with reward for his success.
He needn’t go far for outside of
his door,
there stood a woman whom
he couldn’t love more.
She too was taken by Wayne’s
good looks and charm.
She apologized for being
the cause of his harm.
He couldn’t hear more so he
got on his knee,
asking her to let him help
rule the country.
She accepted this offer with
happy tears.
For he was the knight that had
destroyed all her fears.
They embraced and as she
looked past his shoulder,
she received a scare from a man
that lay still as a boulder.
“My sweet who is that man that
hast scared me so?
He looks to be stabbed,
was he your foe?”
“My dear, don’t take fright of
such gruesome a sight.
That is only the once grand,
Cowardly Knight.”
Wayne and his love were
soon wed for life,
and never were their lives again
full of such strife.
And so it was that many
came to admire
and listen to the tale of Wayne,
the Good Squire.
In all honesty, this isn't well-written. I did it for a school assignment. But I'm putting it up here as a result of boredom and the fact that I am currently upset. Who says teenagers need sleep?
There was this knight in shining armor who took pride in his sword
Being the mightiest hero in his village
He charmed the hearts of ever girl
All women were mesmerized by him for he was the strongest warrior around
They’ll drop to their knees in his presence and tremble at the tender of his sound
His frame was as if it was built with God’s greatest passion
He was courageous and perilous, it displayed in all of his actions
One day while riding his horse he noticed the most beautiful face he ever seen
He was never impressed by the women in his village, but she seemed to be the lady of his dreams
She was sitting by the lake, gathering water for the villages feast
Fascinated by her beauty, her heart he had to meet
He descended from his horse to approach her with care
He concentrated on the glow of her skin and the sway of her hair
With his charming eyes he introduced himself as Prince, the villages bravest knight
She blushed in awe and whispered Rose in return and his eyes grew so bright
Rose indeed. She was as beautiful and savory as one as well
He offered to assist her for she was to gorgeous to be working herself
She graciously rejected his offer,  being the daughter of the king
Her temple was off limits and no man was granted thee
“My father is your King, and I am not allowed to take heath of a man, but you’re a brave knight so I hope he shall understand”
He lifted her on his horse and took her to his land, where he was the first man to touch her, he made love to her despite the circumstance
When she returned to her father he requested to know where she have been
He can see the fear in her eyes and the prints on her skin
“Who have touched you, what have you done? You layed down with a man and I must know who was the one”
“No father!” She trembled “You cant touch this man, he is a prized possession of mine and our connection you would never understand”
“I demand you tell me now! Or off with his head. You tell me willingly or I’ll hunt him down instead”
She stared with tears in her eyes and whispered “ His name is Prince he is the town's strongest knight”
“Prince?!” he replied he quenched his fist and yelled “ With all my might!!”
She cried “No Father please don’t hurt him, He is the man of my dreams, if you shall shed his blood my soul shall not sleep”
“Get her out of here!” He demanded to his guards his anger was so furious and hurt grew upon his heart
Prince, laying in his bed then he heard some knocks on the door
Boom,Boom,Boom, "Open it up!!!”
He ran to grab his sword
But he was outnumbered by the gaurds they seized him and threw him in the cell
He knew what he was being punished for, because it was for her love in his heart he held no fear
The King approach him, he could see the anger burning in his eyes
The knight rose out of the bench and positioned hisself for a fight
“You touched my daughter, what you did was forbidden, you laid hands on her before proper marriage”
“I wasn’t aware she was your lassie, I wouldn’t cause trouble to my villiage but she’s a beautiful Queen and in my heart I couldn’t resist it”
“I would fight for her love my King, to prove to you I am worthy, for no man is a threat to me only her disappearance would hurt me”
“Fairly well Knight your request is granted you shall battle Hollow, a knight who never been in deaths shadow”
With no hesitation he rose and grabbed a sword and marched to the scene
He fastened his armor took stance to fight for the love of his queen
He looked up in the crowd and in his eyes was his beautiful lady
His heart grew stronger and through her blessing he was motivated
He took the first swing missed and was struck in the side
The fight gotten intense and they was so much fear in her eyes
For Prince never been struck by the sword of another man
He was just as shocked by everyone in the village but he was determined to win
All that was heard was gasp of the audience and the clinging of the swords
Prince was growing tired by the minute and his energy was getting lower
He looked up at the princess and realized what he was fighting for
His concentration was knocked off and he was he was knocked down to the floor
A **** layed by his heart and stars formed in his eyes
Surely everyone thought that any minute his death would arrive
He layed in his blood and thought that his love couldn’t be cheated
Like being revived he regained all his strength and struck Hollow in his chest, he was defeated
Tired from the battle he fell down to his knees
Then come running to his rescue, his beautiful Queen
She ran and kissed him for she knew that he was her Knight in shining armor
Tears grew in her eyes and her love for the knight grew stronger
The King kept his promise and rewarded the Knight his Queen
For the Knight had scars of love, but because of his prize he was showered in glee
He fought the hardest battle and shed tears, sweat, and blood
He fought for his golden life, and for the woman that he truly love

Copy Right 2013
     Patty Ann
Becka K Wilson Oct 2013
once there was a White Knight
who stole away my fears
rode a mare called Dignity
out of thin air he appeared

once there was a White Knight
equal in loyalty as in compassion
he slayed the dragons inside my heart
in the humblest of known fashion

once there was a White Knight
with a past as black as night
who had become the best all on his own
and now claimed every fight

once there was a White Knight
who sang lullabies in my ear
countless hours in fields of poppies
when he held me, called me Dear

once there was a White Knight
always coming to my aid
taught me about love and its function
never asking to be paid

once there was a White Knight
who never really said goodbye
a court of fools he called friends
stood by like ramparts where he could hide

once there was a White Knight
who still professed to care
said he still respected my person
and that if I must call, he would be there

once there was a White Knight
but now he exists no more
potions, mirrors, black screens
lie scattered across the floor

once there was a White Knight
but now I bid him take his leave
because I've discovered the only Knight I need
is the Knight that's inside of me
Alexander Klein Oct 2013

In eras weird with old mythology,
As if asleep the fabled country lay:
Her wave-like hills and faerie forests dense,
Her thorny brambles budding curling claws,
And ivy circling all the woodsey way --
The far swan's cry came soft and woke them not.
Forlorn, that selfsame call upon the gates
Did break; those gates of Britain's long-lost keep.
She too slept fast, the weary weathered stones
Of fairest Caerleon. O pulsing stream,
Thou vein of life in woods a-slumber, Usk!
Alone are you in knowing castle's face,
From years of timeless burbling at her feet.
What tales are told by water over stone?
What lark or wren can sing of sadness come?
Aye, answers are the beach-wet sand, yet hark!
Rejoicings spilled, proud hails, from Caerleon:
They cheered the ****-frost's melting with the Spring;
The holy Gwyl Fair y Canhwyllau
Had come at last, in foliage of dawn.

Within, their goblets sailed, wassailed, and crashed
Like growling Jove, their boasts and toasts like wine --
They drank it spiced and over-strong. Indeed,
Some stretched exaggerations: 'twas Sir Bors,
That spotless sheet, who tried to contradict.
He quoted purifying texts and spurned
The wine that nature raised and crafted sweet.
Yet "Loosen up!" uproared the host to him.
"The time has come to celebrate," said Kay,
Beloved knight, step-brother to the King,
"Aloft thy wine, below thy gills! Drink! Laugh!
Your stomach is a falsehood-spewing fool,
It must be drowned for you to feel a lord.
I speak a sooth, you need wine's fleeting bliss!
Know thee that man's tomorrows bleed him dry:
A wade through death and depths as sure as pain
That shall tomorrow light your brow. Laugh! Drink!"
Bold cheering spread with Kay's advice, though yet
To no surprise Bors turned aside the drink,
Unblemished bore, so celebrates alone.
Weep not for him, for soon he'll find a cup
More suited to his strange of chaste and grace.
And none to waste: his share was drunk by all.

Engaged in feast Owain ap Urien,
Engaged in tale now Bedwyr and Kay,
And Lancelot made eyes at Gwenevere.
It was a feast of great success and joy
As fitting of the season's robust gleam,
Yet two there were with shallow-rooted smiles.
Prince Mordred one, though ever-somber he:
Accursed spawn with bone in place of heart
And dreaded incantations for his blood;
His brooding perched like crow on him. Alas:
The other joy-bled man had beard aflame,
A bear-skin drape, and crystal eyes, the Lord
He was of Caerleon and Mordred both.
'Twas not the gleam in lover's gaze that vexed
Though it was seen; he had no heart in him
To chain his Queen as if in dungeon steel,
For Arthur lived believing to be fair
Was paramount, to even paramour.
It wreaked its toll, yet caused small grief this day.
Not even serpent son gave cause to mourn
That greater was than missing nephew's spot
Among the feast. His chair was naked bare
Returned though he should be from faerie quest.
At Calan Gaeaf they expected him
When winter storms had racked their shoddy hall,
Yet since, the months had rolled to Gwyl Fair
The milder season come, but not his kin.
The image of his maiméd corpse did taunt
And haunt the agéd mind of Arthur, King,
His phantom nephew slain anon by knight
That of no flesh was made. In year that died
This green-mailed knight arrived a guest and called
Infernal challenge. Trick it seemed to them
And trick it was, for subsequent the blow,
This seaweed knight did lift his severed head
And from dead lips he cried "Well struck! Now come,
Fulfill me of my game. The year to come
Shall see thee in my home, and as agreed
My turn 'twil be to answer with my axe."

So rapt in recollecting, Arthur missed
The growing clamor that beset his hall.
His ******* cleared the grief from him with taunt,
To bring him into grief. "What say thee, Dad,"
Dripped venom from his mouth, "No love for us?
Your hail we called, but disapprove your eyes.
Methinks that far away thou seest a dream
That visits oft the elderly: a place
Thou knewst when in thy prime, with love
Now filled to burst. Yet fear us not, away!
To land of youth far more beloved than we
Whose happiness with thine own heart is twined."
"My fellow, soft!" the King began, distressed,
Yet Lancelot rose to his feet and spake
"Blackguard is he who mocks our Lord to face!
Thou palest hide, thou Mordred, sit thee down!
This sniveling craven knight should be replaced."
A sounding of the table met his speech,
Again was hailed his toast, and Arthur glad,
Though burdened to his breaking point, and sad.

"Blackguard is he who mocks our Lord to face,"
Had spake his bravest champion and friend
With no regard to Blackguard wrapped in stealth.
See how his roughspun fingers coil in hers
And how some sweetened whisper 'scapes her lips?
The beams of color-stainéd light slip down
To play upon their blissful sin almost
As if King Arthur's King approved on high.
Sovereignty is ruthless, Arthur thought,
Well-wishings of my God grow ever-faint.
I must believe in good though I am ill,
Just as I find my countrymen displeased
Though I did calculate my every breath
To see that it did stand with God's own will
To help my common people from their murk.
I fear I am not what I wished to be,
And now my only solace peaceful death.
If up to me, I'd wish it in my bed.

What horn's blare? Hark! King Arthur roused from thought.
Court gatekeeper Glewlwyd Gafaelfawr,
Dressed plain in brown, took down the horn from lips
And loud as elk called to the hall "Have cheer!
Sirs, drink another beer and wreath your brow
With springtime blooms, for lost knight fair is found!"
Old Arthur trusted not his feeble ears,
But came a hush and Lancelot confirmed:
"What **," he boomed, "our brother has returned!
'Tis grey Gawaine, aye, Gwalchmai! Drink his hail!"
The uproar was enourmous: "Gwalchmai! Cheers!"
Was like to wake the sleeping wilderness
That hung suspended in the myth and mist.


Astonishment had come like breaking wave
Upon the thirsty sands of monarch's face
So long consigned to reap the low-tide's grief.
When Arthur's ursine hand clenched round his cup
And hailed his nephew's presence with a roar
Long lost to hibernation's hoary spell,
The hearts that beat in armor under him
Did swell to find their lord with cheer at last;
The toast they drank so hearty as to give
Sweet Dionysus pause against excess.
Though only two there were who did not drink,
And one of these were Bors, a sadness fell
Once more as tangible as any wrong
That chose to haunt a hall. 'Twas Gwalchmai grey,
The conqueror now home from quest to rest
Who would not lift his eyes to meet the King's.

"Has cheer so fled from you? Your life remains!
What black has inked you in?" the King did ask,
And silence overtook the hall to hear.
How strongly then did Gwalchmai wish to leave,
To blend once more his form to root or branch
Or soaring river. Wind, the songbird's muse,
Had been his fast companion on the road,
For known to him were many things. He was,
They say, some god that stalked the minds of man
In young enchanted places of the world
Though all his magic helped him not at court:
His shyness was a leaf obscured by rain.
Yet even gods of silence know to speak
When words of pain encircle heavy hearts.
He let them fly, birds in the sky, he said
"I failed. My quest was long and arduous,
The seasons changed while I in heather lost,
The moon its phases shed as fen-frogs called,
I floated through the endless cloying mist
That flows, a ghostly sea wrapped round our isle.
The path had nearly drowned me when I found
The chapel green enough to spell my doom.
When entered I, methought "It cannot be!"
So kind and courteous a host met me
That would have been disgrace to call him green.
He feasted me, and warmed my wounded bones,
Yet I betrayed him in the end; I failed.
I stayed his guest, and friend, and swore to him
That for his hospitality I'd share
Each thing I won while underneath his roof.
And all was well -- I'd rest, he'd hunt -- until
His wife played hearts with me. I did refuse,
But by her final trick was tempted and --
So lost all knightly honor and renoun.
Her lusts I spurned three times, but on the third
She offered me that which my heart desired,
Instead of love she begged me take her boon:
A silken girdle sewn with charms, and green,
Deceit I should have seen. She said the spells
Would keep me safe from harm and spare my life...
When on my rugged journey all I'd feared
Was twisting face of death that loomed so near.
I could not help myself, it seemed so tame,
Yet when the time had come I could not share
That gift, or else expose the husband's wife.
Beneath my armor tied when left that place,
My secret wore me down upon the bog.
It seemed the mist grew thicker, wind grew swift,
I now know under spell was I, but then
It seemed some vengence coming to a head.
My tale grows long, and past the point am I.
The Green Knight and my host were one in fraud:
An airy insect's dream. His "wife," a witch,
Had formed him out of acrid moorland soil:
Homunculus to carry out her scheme.
The blow he owed me carried little force,
Though still this scratch is plain upon my nape.
And so you see my folly plain as oak:
For though I kept the life I feared to lose
My lie grows in me like a cancer bloom
That in the span of time shall **** me sure.
I failed; I'm gone; to revelry return."
The silence, vast again, gripped all the knights
And king too dry to cry, who drowned his heart.


"Is there some madness come to roost herein?
Thy folly is ridiculous," said Kay.
"I valued mine own life past honor's flame,
A sin of selfishness, and blame, and wrong.
What of the world, if all would act as such?"
A weeping noise he made, but choked it back
And turned to leave in shame, and might have done
Had not the stout Sir Kay gripped Gwalchmai's arm.
He raised it in the air and shouted thus:
"Percieve our stunning champion stands nigh!
Though of a frail ennobled heart, we know
Thou art absolved. This trinket given free
To aid in quest I wager was for thee.
And as for sacred broken vows, this man --
You said yourself -- was conjured from a bug.
You owe him no alleigance Gwalchmai, sit!
This serious you need to be for wine:
Come sit with brothers now! We drink to thee!"
"Dispel the failure all you can, it stays
As weighty on my brain. It was a sign
To signify the kind of soul I am,
To me it showed my grimy ills and plain
Did tell my shaping, shape, and shape-to-be."
King Arthur to this nephew spake: "My child,
Is there no antidote to questing's woes?
What has become of jousts and silver swords?"
The anguish in the old man's eyes so keen
To those who knew him. Gwalchmai did reply
"Your majesty, there's not a grief can ****
My bird-like love of questing through the trees,
For only questing can redeem my shape."
"Then let us have this quest!" cried Kay beside
Him at the table, deep in drink he swore.
"Come with me, brother-knight, to clear thy mood!
You do you wrong blaspheming at yourself."
The wine was quaffed by Gwalchmai, yet he said
"I first shall stay, I need to rest my ills."
"Your ills are that which keep you ill, good knight.
I bid you come and we shall quest as birds
Who savor springtime berries in the mist."
"I shall not go, I seek my quietude."
"In sunlight you and I must bask. Comply,
Or else I challenge you by burnished blade."
All eyes on Gwalchmai, under pressure cracked
Into a grin and downed his kykeon.
"In stubborness persisting, Kay, you've won,
A river such as I could not keep stead
Against a boulder. When shall we away?
When come the summer blossoms, fair and red?
Or else not til the saps have lost their leaves?
Departure yours to choose, my brother-knight."
Kay beat upon the table and their ears
When called triumphantly "This very day,
This very hour! To help those who need aid
On holy days shall surely fix your heart.
No time to wallow in the swamp that's gone,
We now away, to break our swords with day!"
"You mock me or you heard me not, Sir Kay,
I wish not to away, I wish to rest!"
The fairest Guenevere, like silver bells,
Chimed in "You must forgive your heart's despair,
Or emanations of its guilt will plague
Your mind. I have a lunar garden if
You wish to sit in soothing calm and think."
"My queen is holy," Gwalchmai spoke in grace,
But Kay had cut him off with "Hear her not!
She will ensorce your mind to not explore,
To sit and think and mold with lunacy;
Beneath the sun we'll tred. It's known on quests
I favor Bedwyr, 'tis true, yet you
My fairest Gwalchmai, keep your wits -- and arms --
Two things in need of we shall be.
I mean you no offense, dear Bedwyr,
But I and Gwalchmai share a severed soul
And shall succeed; two sides of selfsame coin.
So come my cousin grey, to right our wrongs
We must away, to break our swords and say
'My heart is glad I did not stay at home!'
Consume your drink! We go," he trumpet-called.
Thus Gwalchmai was convinced, and so was forced
To nod politely to his Queen and stand,
Declaring to the court "I shall away,
This gloomy mood is dried beneath the sun
Though dearly do I wish some lunar grace
To lose myself in mysteries anew.
To bear this flesh is weighty, yet I've found
The strain to be rewarding in its way.
Think nothing of my former woes, they've passed
Like summer storm or wisp of misty cloud."
The hall at large did drink his hail, and then
Did thrice more drink for quest to which they went.
And Mordred scowled and drank the foulest wine
For his monsoon and fog would last his life.

So summoned then Glewlwyd Gafaelfawr
To hearken unto birds, as was his gift.
He said to all, "I shall now call my friends
And see what worthy tales of quests they bring!"
"There may be naught on Gwyl Fair," said Bors,
"A holy day, all wove with peace. Nor Gods
Nor men would stir their strife this day of days."
"We all shall see," the gatekeeper replied.
Beside his King upon the dais came
And played a serenade upon his horn
That rang throughout the keep and lands beyond.
A time did pass with no response recieved --
Slain silent was the raptness of the court --
But then through open pain in stainéd glass
A thrush did bob and weave in melody,
On finger of the Queen he briefly perched
Before he flit away upon the air.
His song so sweet, but then - what fright! No more!
A hawk had entered, just the same, and swooped,
And now the thrush was silent in his claws.
The cabinet of augers all took note
And sketched their calculations into books,
Though none, in this, more wise than Gafaelfawr
To whom the hawk said "Hail, you man of rank
Who speaks the tongue of wing-in-air. Now hark!
'Twas not in hunger slew this thrush, but fear
That what I have to tell might go unheard.
My family, we roost near Cornwall's sea
And late, the noises off the coast grew strange
As if some evil kraken raged at love.
My chicks; my wife and I; we're simple hawks.
We eat and some of us are eaten, yet
Beware the thing that slouched from out the waves.
His shape is something like a boar, but huge,
He dwarfs his kin, and hill, and oak,
This hall is large, yet he'd be stuck inside.
He does not eat what he has killed, instead
He smears the bloodied flesh on stones and trees,
What man could face a fear that bears this face?
If you could hear the rutting squeals he makes!
I swear this sooth by wind and waving plumes:
You men who craft with metal, hark!
Destroy the beast!" And then he flew away
Still calling after him "Destroy the beast!"

The court at large had heard the warbling hawk
But did not know the tongue, so only watched
Glewlwyd's unease upon his face
Until with stiff and rasping voice relayed
The content of the predatory news.
Unease began to show among the knights,
For many there recalled a beast so shaped
And all the blood and guile he took to drown
The first time. Arthur, grim, forbade Sir Kay
And Gwalchmai face these perils by themselves,
But recommended regiment of steel
To bolster ranks against the fearsome boar.
"I know this foe from days of old," he said,
His years of rule etched rough across his face,
"And so do most of you, though many gone
And this monstrosity not even slain."
But Gwalchmai said "'Twas hard indeed to win
Those relics that he bore. Remember I
That Trwyth was the name he chose, and we
Shall best him fair. Though not for trinkets now,
But with the zeal of mother guarding young:
This foe, Twrch Trwyth shall not raze the land
Nor wage a war against some peaceful ilk
While rounded table can beco
The shining knight was no light
The light that shined was not seen
The shine was not light but knight
The knight had no light to shine
The light shone from the knight
The shine was light from the knight
The knight shone like a bright light
The bright light from the knight was right
The right to shine like a knight tonight
The night was full of bright shining knight
The light was bright but not in sight
The sight of the knight at night was not bright
The night sight of the bright knight was a plight
The blight of the bright knights sight tonight , might not delight him in a light fight at the right height however slight , oh what a plight , like a flight of a kite.
Josiah Israel Jan 2017
by— Josiah Israel

Twas oft the way in days of old,
When knight would battle brave and bold,
The damsels hand in hopes to hold,
Worth more then polished Stone, or Gold
For this is what a boy is told
When day is done and night is cold…

“One day my son, thy chance will come
Though courage oft may waver,
When lady waits, through sable gates
For thee brave lad, to save her!”

For when a dragon stole a maid,
Awaiting ransom duly paid,
Twas bravest knight, armor arrayed  
With noble steed and burnished blade
Rode swiftly to the damsels aid…

“You have not birth of high degree
Yet be thou brave and fight,
For low in rank thy birth may be
Yet heart makes noble knight!”

And after facing beast and foe
The knight with maiden free would go
Away to fields in need of ***
For seeds ere winter need to grow
And none can reap who do not sow…

“Not all you do will win a prize
Of gold or silver bent,
So reap a harvest good in size
And be thee well content.”

And when the battle horn he hears
The knight must banish all his fears
And ride to war, with battle cheers
On maidens cheek alight her tears
Fearing death, she spends the years…

“To win renown in battle
Might also be your path,
May your enemies armor rattle
As they feel your righteous wrath!”

But after kings campaign is done
The knight to home will swiftly run
From dusk through night to rising sun
Till maiden sees her hero come
Heart moving swift, a beating drum
Yes she the prize which first he won!

“Home is best at warring's end
To be with those you cherish,
A place to rest, your wounds to mend
Where love will never perish”

Though all the kingdom knows his name
And minstrels spread the brave knights fame
His love for she, remains the same
And they live happily, Knight and Dame…
I love the medieval Ballad kind of poem. Alfred Lord Tennyson was my inspiration for this style :D
Lucy Bryant May 2014
Beyond a kingdom of mysterious lands.
A young brave knight gave forth his own hand.
The ladies had all fell in love at first sight
They had many dreams about the young knight.
Came the next day, late at noon,
A very hot day in the middle of June.
The knight noticed one lady timid and shy.
Though she thought the knight wasnt that great of a guy.
The knight being brave he said hi to the lady,
but the timid shy lady found the knight quite shady.
The knight had no clue
what should he do?
Try to impress?
Buy her a nice dress?
In order to impress he must defend the dragon.
Although it was the worst time of season for any type of dragon.
The other young ladies were extremely mad.
But the one other lady felt bad for the lad.
Although she did not like the young brave knight,
she had to tell him the true reason why.
The lady walked up to the guy.
The knight was heart broken and embarrassed
But he kept in mind he was best and bravest.
So thats the end of this love story fail,
But the other young ladies wanted to wear the veil.
Big Virge Sep 2014
YES .... !!!!!!
I am ... The Dark Knight  
of a ... "DIFFERENT" ... Type !!!!!
Who .... still fights crime !  
No Nines' ..... just rhymes  
Rhymes designed .....
like .... "Spidey" .... Webs  
to .... Mess with heads ....
who .... bring distress ....  
when they should be at HOME ....
Sleeping ..... in beds ..... !!!!!!
No friend of ... Feds ... !!!!!  
whose work ... defends ...  
THOSE ... Gangster Sects ...  
who ... deal in ... Death  
A HERooooo .... !!!!!!

whose flows ....  

dish out .... dem' blows ....  
that have ... "Bad Man"  
UP - Onnnn .... dem' toes .... !!!!!
I work at ... night ...  
but ... When I ... RISE ... !!! ...
It's time for guys  
to .... Recognise .... !!!  
their crime designs ....
become .... " Benign " ....  
when THIS .... " Dark Knight " ....  
shines like .... STARLIGHT .... !!!!!!  
because my vibe ....
is down with .... Right .... !!!  
and ... down with ... Wrong ... !!!!!  
when wrong belongs ...  
inside the strong ...
who don't prolong ...
the use of wrong ...
Hammerin' ... Jaws ... !!!!!  
but .... I ain't Thor .... !!!  
My style of war ...  
is ... Lyrically ... PURE ... !!!!!  
PURE like .... My Cause ....  
Ta Capture ..... " SAW " ..... !!!!!!!
Did you catch that rhyme ?
cos that was ... RAW ...  
I now ... Implore ....  
crime lords ta ..............................
....... " Pause " ................
before I draw ....
their cards of ... War ...
and ... **** fa Headz ... !!!  
like Beavis's ... friend ... !!!  
See .....
When nights are ... DARK ... !!!  
I hear the .... HARK .... !!!!!  
of those inclined ...  
to fight with ... " Stark " ...  
" Tony " ... of course ... !!!!!!  
So ... i'm down with Thor ...  
when Avenging ... Fa SURE ... !!!!!  
but ... " Justice is " ...  
The League ... i'm IN ... !!!!!
Green Lantern ... Dimmm ... ?  
Not when tings ... Grim-(m)... !!!!!  
No calling for ... "The Thing" ...  
when ... WE BE ... CLOBBERIN' ... !!!!!!!  
cos' we stand together ...  
Bredrin .... Forever .... !!!!!!  
but me ... i'm ... " Clever " ...  
So ... DON'T get ... Tied ... !!!
most ties I ... Sever ... !!!
cos' a lot of crime fighters  
be down fa' ... Whatever ... !!?!!  
So me ... I box ... Clever  
as if my name ... was ...  

" Floyd Mayweather ... !!!!!  
Pugilistic ... Endeavours ...  
that ... Create ... Pressure ... !!!!!  
and ... Inflict ... PAIN ...  
that defeats the ... INSANE ... !!!!!!  
Bane ... ain't got game ... !!!
to mess with the ... "Strain" ...  
that my brain ... " Retains " ...  
Personal .... PAIN .... !!!!!  
loss that ...
.........  " Remains " ........ !!!!!!
Kind of like ... Cain ... !?!?!  
Not Abel ..... to refrain ..... !!!!  
from doing what's ... Wrong ...  
cos it feels ... So ... " Strong " ... !!!!!  
The will to ... Fight ... !!!!!  
The will to ... " Die ' ... !!!  
for what ... " I Believe " ...  
in my heart ...  
to be ..... " Right " .....  !!!
Meantime .....  
On the ... side ...  
I got girls who look ... FLY ...  
trying to get time  
to roll with ... The Dark Knight ... !!!  
but me ... like I say ...  
am a ... " Different " ... Type ...  
who ... FOOPS ... like Sup's
when dem' bodies dem' ........
.......... TIGHT ............ !!!!!!!!!
YES ........ !!!!!!!
Lois Lane knows
cos' once I hit Metropolis
she knew ..............
Sup's had to ... Gooooooo !!!!!!!!
A Kryptonite ... type flow ... !!!
that proves my prose ...
makes the ladies wanna roll ....
But ... Like I said  
Befoooooooour ... !!!!!!!
I'm a ... Different type ...
of ....... Knight ...... !!!!!!
whose essence is to ...  
......... " Fight " ...........  
Fight .... The Crimes ...  
of ...... Criminal Minds ......  
whose lust for ... Strife ...  
leaves them ... Resigned ...
to .... miss .... THE SIGNS ....  
and see .... " The Light " .....  
The Light ... that ... SHINES ...  
on Knights like .......... I ..........  
Who ... STAND for MORE
than being ... "LORDS OF WAR" ... !!!!!!  
We stand for ... A CAUSE ...  
that says to ... Y'all ...  
WE CAN ... do ... MORE  
than be ... Forlorn ...  
because of crimes ...
that take ... "Innocent lives" ... !!!!!!
YES ... I'm THAT Guy ... !!!!!!!!
who has ...... NO TIME .......  
for ... " Nonsense Fights " ... !!!  
or .... Joining .... Tribes ....  
because ..... My Life .....  
has a ..... " Singular Vibe " ....  
because .... I am ....  
"The Dark Knight ....  
.......... of ...........  
.......... A ...........
Different Type !!!!!"
Inspired by, The Dark Knight, trilogy of movies, amongst much that is superhero related ....
Yue Wang Yidhna Dec 2017
Story by: Yidhna
Written in Chinese By: Yidhna Yue and Ezio Fu
Translated in Full by Yidhna

1.“Light and Darkness”
Another myth
The Monomyth
Symphony of a war
A war of the light
and Dark
A war in the myth
Myth of the black moths
Myth of the fireflies
From the beginning of
The universe
That which is also the end of time
Life, like the phoenixes,
Ends end with new life

For light and for darkness
For love and for destruction  
I am a knight
I am a knight
For light and for darkness
For love and for destruction
I am a dynast
I am a dynast

Stars, as heaven sent Guardians
Fall from the sky
As snow flakes fall from the sky
Fall to the their rebirth
Fall to their renaissance
as Fireflies
Fireflies of the righteous path
Fireflies of light
They will return
as stars in the night sky
For light and for darkness
For love and for destruction  
I am a knight
I am a knight
For light and for darkness
For love and for destruction
I am a dynast
I am a dynast

From swamps of darkness
Flows the corrupted
In the caves of darkness
In the forms of black moths
Tarring the world with the wickedness
without heart without hope
Rebirth in the night
Without light
For light and for darkness
For love and for destruction  
I am a knight
I am a knight
For light and for darkness
For love and for destruction
I am a dynast
I am a dynast

For light and for darkness
For love and for destruction  
I am a knight
I am a knight
For light and for darkness
For love and for destruction
I am a dynast
I am a dynast

2.“The Fireflies”
Without hope, who yet lives?
Within darkness, who yet saves?
Flames of light?
Flames of heart?
Or faith, and loyalty to faith
When Irises
No longer shines
When golden armors
Scars like flesh
They will still use blood
To light up belief
and bravely awaits the new dawn
Fallen from the stars
They are the warriors
They are the saviors
They are the fireflies
They are the fireflies
In love they will return as star lights
In death they will return as star lights
In death they will return as star lights
Time endless War eternal
Light and darkness mourn for peace
Light, fireflies,
Heaven sent star lights
Under the dark nights
When time dies
When time ends
Losing its dark and light
The fireflies still sing
Sing toward a path to truth
Living in faith, living in love
Living in the rebirth, renaissance
As stars from the sky
Fallen from the stars
They are the warriors
They are the saviors
They are the fireflies
They are the fireflies
In love they will return as star lights
In death they will return as star lights
In death they will return as star lights
Guardians of the righteous path
Guardians of the righteous light
Messengers of life: The fireflies
They are the stars
They are the stars
Fallen stars
When the green light
Loses its shine
When the flames of the fireflies
Loses its fading light
They will return to the heavens
Return to the sky
Like the legend of phoenix
Hope reborn with light
The promised hope in the starry night

3.“The Black Moth”
There’s love for the darkness
Love for their own kind
There’s hate for them too
Hate for the enemies
The black moth are born from shadows
The black moth will die into shadows
Shadowed in the forms of Black moths
The flee with flight
Then rebirth when died
As shadows of the Night(Light)
We are born from the darkness
Molded into the night
We will live within the cycle
We are the black moths
We are the black moths
Borne out of the shadows
As we live and die
As shadows of the dark nights
Different eyes
Sees a different world
If it never was
How can one say anything at all
Who to tell from right and wrong
When both light and dark are the purest
When all weapons only hinder
When all pride could only be humble
When you no longer look back
I will still follow
We are born from the darkness
Molded into the night
We will live within the cycle
We are the black moths
We are the black moths
Borne out of the shadows
As we live and die
As shadows of the dark nights
He doesn’t need love
To live lovely
He doesn’t need light
To feel proud
Just the opposite light
Just a prodigy’s right
Bravery in the darkness
For no one’s praises
When the light comes
In the last minute
We will vanish in peace
We are born from the darkness
Molded into the night
We will live within the cycle
We are the black moths
We are the black moths
Borne out of the shadows
As we live and die
As shadows of the dark nights
We are born from the darkness
Molded into the night
We will live within the cycle
We are the black moths
We are the black moths
Borne out of the shadows
As we live and die
As shadows of the dark nights

4.“The Red Firefly”
Born between light and darkness
I am an outsider
To this world
To time
To death
To darkness
To light
I am Andorhous
A messenger with a mission
To save time
I am Andorhous
The Red Firefly
The result of a mistake in time
I was born between two worlds
Birthed in Night and Light
I am the red firefly
I am the Hero of Time
I am Andorhous
The Red Firefly
The Red Firefly
The Red Firefly
Because of my birth
The Goddess of Time
Helyhna was never born
Time returns
All will die
At the Final Battle
Between Light and Dark
I am Andorhous
An error that brought the world’s end
I am Andorhous
I need to stop my birth
I was born between two worlds
Birthed in Night and Light
I am the red firefly
I am the Hero of Time
I am Andorhous
The Red Firefly
The Red Firefly
The Red Firefly
For I am an outsider
I can see what they refuse to believe
I understand the beginning
I understand the end
I understand the mistake I made
I am Andorhous
I will make my sacrifice
I am Andorhous
I will use a moment to bring back eternity
I will use a moment to bring back Immortality
I was born between two worlds
Birthed in Night and Light
I am the red firefly
I am the Hero of Time
I am Andorhous
The Red Firefly
The Red Firefly
The Red Firefly
I was born between two worlds
Birthed in Night and Light
I am the red firefly
I am the Hero of Time
I am Andorhous
The Red Firefly
The Red Firefly
The Red Firefly
5.“Guardian of Time”
The Goddess of Light
The Guardian of Time
The Eternal Angel
She was suppose to be born
At the beginning of time
To end time
She is the princess of
The Firefly Queen and King
She stopped and imprisoned time
So life lives
However, a mistake made in time
A mysterious red light fallen from the sky
Suddenly raced toward the palace
And caused another creation to emerge
That creation was Andorhous
He who was birthed between dark and light
Where are you, Guardian?
Where are you, Helyhna
Instead Andorhous Born
Born from Darkness and Light
Torn from Darkness and Light
Where’s the Guardian
Where’s our Guardian
She who’s the Guardian
She who’s our Guardian
Guardian of Time
Thunder roaring
Clouds soaring
Endless darkness
Endless blood
Tearing the sky
Tearing time
When blood flows to the edge of the river death
When corrosion follows the dark end
No knights to guard
No light at the rim of the clouds
Listen to the people mourning
Look at the innocent withering
Who will protect us
Who will lead us out of the darkness
Where are you, Guardian?
Where are you, Helyhna
Instead Andorhous Born
Born from Darkness and Light
Torn from Darkness and Light
Where’s the Guardian
Where’s our Guardian
She who’s the Guardian
She who’s our Guardian
Guardian of Time
The sky darkening
Worlds Ending
Endless battles
Endless wounds
Battle to the end
Judgement at the end
Only the guardian Angel
Can bring peace back to the motherland
Where are you, Guardian?
Where are you, Helyhna
Instead Andorhous Born
Born from Darkness and Light
Torn from Darkness and Light
Where’s the Guardian
Where’s our Guardian
She who’s the Guardian
She who’s our Guardian
Guardian of Time
Where are you, Guardian?
Where are you, Helyhna
Instead Andorhous Born
Born from Darkness and Light
Torn from Darkness and Light
Where’s the Guardian
Where’s our Guardian
She who’s the Guardian
She who’s our Guardian
Guardian of Time

6.“The Choice”
Parallel universe
Another timeline
She said to me
Because of my Transtemporal birth
She doesn’t exist in my world
Because of the appearance of time
Eternity will die
Because of the Final Battle of Dark and Light
All will die
Because of me, the Red Firefly
Death or Imprisonment
What Do I choose
What Do I choose
Helyhna or Darkness
What do I do
What do I do
“Just an insect among life
What could I do
If all dies
I too will meet my demise”
Helyhna said calmly
“You can stop your birth”
“You will go back
Stop that falling red light
In the paradox
One version of you will die
And this you will be my imprisoned time.”
Death or Imprisonment
What Do I choose
What Do I choose
Helyhna or Darkness
What do I do
What do I do
Death or Imprisonment
What Do I choose
What Do I choose
Helyhna or Darkness
What do I do
What do I do

7.“The Final Battle”
In my hesitance
The sky
The shadows of dark and light
Leaving only a rip of emptiness
In space and Time
The stars are shutting down their lights
The black moths and shadows are swallowed alive
All creatures are torn between
The ocean of sea and blood
I have decided
I stand corrected
I will bring back peace
I will bring back eternity
For the Guardian of Time
For the Guardian of Time
When silence in the air
Are broken by the screams of Darkness
When the remaining brightness
Are swallowed by the rip
In space and time
When two worlds are being swallowed by emptiness
I have decided
I stand corrected
I will bring back peace
I will bring back eternity
For the Guardian of Time
For the Guardian of Time
But, I could only remember Her
The guardian of time
I remember her countenance
I remember her pleading helplessness
I decided to go back to the beginning of time
Prevent my erred birth
Stop the mysterious red light
Return the Guardian
To Eternal Life
I have decided
I stand corrected
I will bring back peace
I will bring back eternity
For the Guardian of Time
For the Guardian of Time
I have decided
I stand corrected
I will bring back peace
I will bring back eternity
For the Guardian of Time
For the Guardian of Time

8.“I will stop time”

There’s only this way
An inevitable way
Yielding or fearing
Which is the tragic flaw
You look through the world
With a layer of tears
and have chosen the way
Because only through this choice
You see beauty of the eternal days
For love and For time
For darkness and for Light
I will create my unbirth
I will stop Time
I will stop Time
I will stop Time
For the Guardian
The Guardian of Time
I still remember Helyhna’s words
Prisoner or Freedom
Why choose Imprisonment
Because you don’t just have the darkness
But also the conscience of the light
You will always be an outsider to
Both dark and light
But you
You are Time
And I
I am the guardian of time
For love and For time
For darkness and for Light
I will create my unbirth
I will stop Time
I will stop Time
I will stop Time
For the Guardian
The Guardian of Time
For love and For time
For darkness and for Light
I will create my unbirth
I will stop Time
I will stop Time
I will stop Time
For the Guardian
The Guardian of Time

9.“The Prisoner of Life”
Andorhous lives beyond time
I can travel through time and space
Because I’m living within the error of eternity
Because I am that error
I am the limit, I am time
I flew toward the birth of Helyhna
To wait for the falling red light
When I finally realized
I am that red light
I caused my birth
I Surrender I Yield to Eternity
I am Time as I stopped Time
I am Time An anomaly
I am Time A Prisoner
Prisoner of Helyhna
The Guardian
My Guardian
Guardian of Time
Guardian of Life
I suddenly stopped flying
I finally realized that in this
Wheel of a storyline
I am that cause of abnormality
I caused my erred birth
Now that Helyhna’s safe born
I stayed in this timeline
Became Time
Prisoner of Helyhna
The Guardian of Time
I Surrender I Yield to Eternity
I am Time as I stopped Time
I am Time An anomaly
I am Time A Prisoner
Prisoner of Helyhna
The Guardian
My Guardian
Guardian of Time
Guardian of Life
I am the narrator
I am the protagonist
I am the villain
I am the hero
I am Time
I am the prisoner of
The Guardian of Time
I Surrender I Yield to Eternity
I am Time as I stopped Time
I am Time An anomaly
I am Time A Prisoner
Prisoner of Helyhna
The Guardian
My Guardian
Guardian of Time
Guardian of Life
I Surrender I Yield to Eternity
I am Time as I stopped Time
I am Time An anomaly
I am Time A Prisoner
Prisoner of Helyhna
The Guardian
My Guardian
Guardian of Time
Guardian of Life
Sky Jan 2016
Once upon a time,
a princess small and fair
sat in a simple wooden tower.
She spent her days
surrounded by stories and songs,
and let the whispers of tales
sing her softly to sleep.
But, one day, a curse fell across her mind,
sent by an unknown spellcrafter.
The curse shrouded the princess’s thoughts in darkness.
The princess grew fearful of every passing day,
distrustful of the ones she loved,
and her stories and songs
became her only remaining comfort.
The princess spent many years
tormented by this terrible curse,
a foul spell that forced her to
doubt her life
and draw her own blood.
She was trapped, frightened and alone,
in her cold wooden tower,
and her only company was the monsters who came
to feed on her fear.
One dark and rainy day,
the princess was startled to see
a pair of warm, brown eyes
peering through her window.
She gazed into those eyes,
and suddenly felt something stir in her chest.
It was a feeling that she hadn’t experienced
since the days before her curse:
Love, and trust.
The princess opened the window
and let the eyes’ owner climb in out of the rain.
The boy standing before her saw
the monsters in the princess’s room,
and he drew his sword.
The princess cried out, startled.
The young knight looked at her and said,
“Never fear, princess. I will always protect you, no matter the cost.
Your monsters cannot drive me away.”
To prove his point,
he ran his sword through the beasts one by one.
One monster managed to escape, scurrying out the window,
but the rest turned to dust on the knight’s shining blade.
The knight turned to the princess and fell to his knees,
taking her small, soft hand in his.
“My fair princess, I have been watching you, lonely in your tower,
and I have seen the curse’s power.
If you would allow it,
I would like to stay by your side,
to protect you from any monsters that may come your way,
and help you find a way to break the curse.”
The princess gazed down at the knight with shining eyes,
then knelt so her eyes were level with his.
“I will let you stay, knight, for I see loyalty and truth in your eyes...and I also see hope.
I feel that you will help me break the foul curse that has been placed upon me.”
The knight lifted a hand and gently rested it on her cheek.
“Then I vow to protect you until my dying breath, princess.
I swear I will never leave your side.”
The knight leaned in and sealed his vow with a gentle kiss,
and the princess gasped as the world around them suddenly brightened,
the tower’s icy chill faded into a pleasant warmth,
and the princess’s darkest thoughts faded away.
She knew that the curse was not broken,
but something had been changed,
and the change was wrought by the knight’s kiss.
She looked at the knight kneeling before her with wide eyes.
“You are meant to be my savior,” she whispered.
I know the story doesn’t really feel finished, but I purposely didn’t write a concrete ending for it because the story, the real story, isn’t finished yet. Like many of my stories and poems, this fairytale is inspired by real life.
I might post more of this story in parts as the real story continues. I already have a ton of ideas. :)
Let me know if you want to see more of the cursed princess and her knight!
Austin Heath Apr 2014
Of all the super heroes who exist
like legends, or monuments in entertainment,
or essential cultural commodities,
my favorite is Moon Knight.
Never met a good reception.
Never had a particularly well done story.
I like Moon Knight in theory;
a superhero with mental issues,
with friends who face the moral challenge
of playing into his insanity,
versus helping him stop serious crimes.
It seemed like a social commentary to me;
why do we hate dictators, but love superheroes?
How is it we understand absolute power corrupts
yet also think having an alien demigod semi-rule the planet
is really in the best interest of our species?
The design for Moon Knight has always been immaculate
to me; directly representing the fallibility of the hero,
diving into the night with a decadent radiance,
he wears all white, and declares he enjoys it-
for his enemies to know he's coming.
Does it make sense? No.
Much like the Punisher, Moon Knight doesn't struggle with
being morally black and white, but does struggle with
keeping that identity intact. His eyes glowing,
no face shown... just darkness.
All the emotion in the world broadcast through
two glowing orbs. sometimes red, sometimes green,
often white.
A visual hint to clouded mind of Moon Knight;
Marvel's true Batman gone awry. Gone insane.
A failed son who won't die.
Here's to it.
preservationman Jun 2017
It was an all black car
Where ever the action went it was driving into adventure being far
It could be a mountain trail
It might be across the globe with anything but fail
But the Knight-Rider car with the nickname “KITT”
However, the car being energized and totally computerized was it
I had the opportunity while vacationing in Downtown Los Angeles to visit Universal Studios Hollywood
This is the place where all the Oscars stood
But let me fill you in a little secret
There were several other Knight-Rider cars
I will call them “Stand in Autos”
When the original Knight-Rider car crashes beyond repair
You can always depend on many many spare
Yet the Knight-Rider car was always on the move
There were thrills in action to prove
But for the moment don’t move
For example, a racing car in competition that thinks it is more Tech
But wait, the Knight-Rider car having flips and tricks being the Knight-Rider car having effect
Eye on technology in having its own elect
I almost forgot, I met the man behind Kitt’s wheels, David Hasselhoff
We actually spoke in person one on one
David Hasselhoff has height standing among
Knight-Rider car has driven into the night
But there is a spotlight giving it light
Yet the Knight-Riding car says goodnight.
(A play in one act.)

The Knight.
The Lady.

Voices of men and women on the ground at the foot of the tower.
The voice of the Knight’s Page.

     The top of a high battlemented tower of a castle.  A stone ledge,
     which serves as a seat, extends part way around the parapet.
     Small clouds float by in the blue sky, and occasionally a swallow passes.
     Entrance R. from an unseen stairway which is supposed to extend around
     the outside of the tower.

The Lady (unseen).
Oh do not climb so fast, for I am faint
With looking down the tower to where the earth
Lies dreaming in the sun.  I fear to fall.

The Knight (unseen).
Lean on me, love, my love, and look not down.

Call me not “love”, call me your conquered foe,
That now, since you have battered down her gates,
Gives you the keys that lock the highest tower
And mounts with you to prove her homage true;
Oh bid me go no farther lest I fall,
My foot has slipped upon the rain-worn stones,
Why are the stairs so narrow and so steep?
Let us go back, my lord.

                           Are you afraid,
Who were so dauntless till the walls gave way?
Courage, my sweet.  I would that I could climb
A thousand times by wind-swept stairs like these,
That lead so near to heaven.

                              Sir, you may,
You are a knight and very valorous;
I am a woman.  I shall never come
This way but once.
(The Knight and the Lady appear on the top of the tower.)

                     Kiss me at last, my love.

Oh, my sweet lord, I am too tired to kiss.
Look how the earth is like an emerald,
With rivers veined and flawed with fallow fields.

K.  (Lifting her veil)
Then I kiss you, a thousand thousand kisses
For all the days ere I had won to you
Beyond the walls and gates you barred so close.
Call me at last your love, your castle’s lord.

L.  (After a pause)
I love you.

(She kisses him.  Her veil blows away like a white butterfly
over the parapet.  Faint cries and laughter from men and women
under the tower.)

Men and Women.
The veil, the lady’s veil!

(The knight takes the lady in his arms.)

My lord, I pray you loose me from your arms
Lest that my people see how much we love.

May they not see us?  All of them have loved.

But you have been an enemy, my lord,
With walls between us and with moss-grown moats,
Now on a sudden must I kiss your mouth?
I who was taught before I learned to speak
That all my house was hostile unto yours,
Now can I put my head against your breast
Here in the sight of all who choose to come?

Are we not past the caring for their eyes
And nearer to the heaven than to earth?
Look up and see.

                   I only see your face.

(She touches his hair with her hands.  Murmuring under the tower.)

Why came we here in all the noon-day light
With only darting swallows over us
To make a speck of darkness on the sun?
Let us go down where walls will shut us round.
Your castle has a hundred quiet halls,
A hundred chambers, where the shadows lie
On things put by, forgotten long ago.
Forgotten lutes with strings that Time has slackened,
We two shall draw them close and bid them sing—
Forgotten games, forgotten books still open
Where you had laid them by at vesper-time,
And your embroidery, whereon half-worked
Weeps Amor wounded by a rose’s thorn.
Shall I not see the room in which you slept,
Palpitant still and breathing of your thoughts,
Where maiden dreams adown the ways of sleep
Swept noiselessly with damosels and knights
To tourneys where the trumpet made no sound,
Blow as he might, the scarlet trumpeter,
And were the dreams not sometimes brimmed with tears
That waked you when the night was loneliest?
Will you not bring me to your oratory
Where prayers arose like little birds set free
Still upward, upward without sound of flight?
Shall I not find your turrets toward the north,
Where you defied white winter armed for war;
Your southern casements where the sun blows in
Between the leaf-bent boughs the wind has lifted?
Shall we not see the sunrise toward the east,
Watch dawn by dawn the rose of day unfolding
Its golden-hearted beauty sovereignly;
And toward the west look quietly at evening?
Shall I not see all these and all your treasures?
In carven coffers hidden in the dark
Have you not laid a sapphire lit with flame
And amethysts set round with deep-wrought gold,
Perhaps a ruby?

                  All my gems are yours
And all my chambers curtained from the sun.
My lord shall see them all, in time, in time.

(The sun begins to sink.)

Shall I not see them now?  To-day, to-night?

How could I show you in one day, my lord,
My castle and my treasures and my tower?
Let all the days to come suffice for this
Since all the past days made them what they are.
You will not be impatient, my sweet lord.
Some of the halls have long been locked and barred,
And some have secret doors and hard to find
Till suddenly you touch them unawares,
And down a sable way runs silver light.
We two will search together for the keys,
But not to-day.  Let us sit here to-day,
Since all is yours and always will be yours.

(The stars appear faintly one by one.)

K.  (After a pause.)
I grow a little drowsy with the dusk.

L.  (Singing.)
    There was a man that loved a maid,
    (Sleep and take your rest)
    Over her lips his kiss was laid,
    Over her heart, his breast.

(The knight sleeps.)

    All of his vows were sweet to hear,
    Sweet was his kiss to take;
    Why was her breast so quick to fear,
    Why was her heart, to break?

    Why was the man so glad to woo?
    (Sleep and take your rest)
    Why were the maiden’s words so few—

(She sees that he is asleep, and slipping off her long cloak-like
outer garment, she pillows his head upon it against the parapet,
and half kneeling at his feet she sings very softly:)

    I love you, I love you, I love you,
    I am the flower at your feet,
    The birds and the stars are above you,
    My place is more sweet.

    The birds and the stars are above you,
    They envy the flower in the grass,
    For I, only I, while I love you
    Can die as you pass.

(Light clouds veil the stars, growing denser constantly.
The castle bell rings for vespers, and rising, the lady moves
to a corner of the parapet and kneels there.)

Ave Maria! gratia plena, Dominus—

Voice of the Page (from the foot of the tower.)
My lord, my lord, they call for you at court!

(The knight wakes.  It is now quite dark.)

There is a tourney toward; your enemy
Has challenged you.  My lord, make haste to come!

(The knight rises and gropes his way toward the stairs.)

I will make haste.  Await me where you are.

(To himself.)
There was a lady on this tower with me—

(He glances around hurriedly but does not see her in the darkness.)

My lord has far to ride before the dawn!

K.  (To himself.)
Why should I tarry?

(To the page.)
Bring my horse and shield!

(He descends.  As the noise of his footfall on the stairs dies away,
the lady gropes toward the stairway, then turns suddenly, and going to
the ledge where they have sat, she throws herself over the parapet.)

Paul Hardwick Aug 2013
As the princess reached the clearing
she was stopped by a command
that did say
I am the knight of Day
who goes this way.

Princess Darling she did say
please let me go on my way
and what a strange name for a knight any way.

W   H   A   T  !    T   H  E      KNIGHT DID SAY?

well the princess went onto say
how can you be the the knight of Day
for you must be the knight of night

W   H   A   T  !    T   H  E      KNIGHT DID SAY!

What makes you think that?

the princess did blush and say well your armour is black as night
and if it was day your armour would be made of  G  O  L  D.

A T   T H A T  THE KNIGHT       O    F       D    A     Y      
G O T  S U C K E D into his own head   :-)

Think this would make a great rock song, and would be able to write more, maybe about the gilt the princess did feel about, the knight, that she did slay. **( shine on my silver diamond)**.   he he he !

Should have listened to my teacher more in the sixty's.  but still have love and peace for you all.

P A U L    ***  :-)
Kit Landaal Sep 2010
I once knew a man
Who was kind and sweet.
Where did he go?
Where could he be?
In his wake was left a man.
A tyrant, a cruel, a sadistic man.
The fair maiden loved her knight,
But once he was gone, she mourned full might.
He once loved her, but then turned tyrant.
And yet, the fair maiden will wait for her knight.
What could she do?
How could she help?
She wanted her kind knight,
But the tyrant never left.
He tricked her with words
And actions that mimicked her knight.
She would do anything just to have her knight.
And yet, she keeps waiting,
But the tyrant can’t hurt her anymore,
For she knows the truth,
She has seen the light.
He is no longer her knight.
Autumn Stone Jun 2014
Do you remember
when the dragon saved the princess
from that awful knight
because I can remember it clearer than most

the knight, a greedy *******
who's foul lips
wrapped around a glass bottle
who's foul lips
sought the bottle
and nothing more

and remember when he hit the princess that first time
remember when he grabbed her hair
remember when he shoved her down
put away the scars
the scratches
the bruises
treated it as
'oh, he's just showing his love'

and remember
remember that one night
when she finally called his bluff
she said 'no, you don't love me'
remember when he hit her with the bottle
the knight, what a **** bag
but after that,
came the dragon
with his tattoos and heavy beard
on his motorcycle
and beat the knight away
****** him to hell
or at least prison
and a lot of angry inmates

and the princess and the dragon
set away
to have a nice little life together
with the night safely locked and gone
in a far away tower.
Reimar Mar 2015
I am the hunter
I’m the chased one
I am the wrong
I am the right

I am the shadow
I’m the phantom
I blow a cold wind
Through the night

You won’t see me cry a tear
Switch on the searchlight
And in a second I’ll be near
I am the Dark Dark Knight

I am the fearless
I am the horror
I am the broken
I am the strong

I am the famous
I’m the unknown
I am the knight
Who rides alone

You won’t see me cry a tear
Switch on the searchlight
And in a second I’ll be near
I am the Dark Dark Knight

You are the youth
You are the beauty
More than most men
Could ever take

You touch my skin
You kiss my armour
Drawn to a heart
You’ll never break

*You won’t see me cry a tear
Just close your eyes
And in a blink I’ll disappear
Into the dark dark knight
jeffrey conyers Jan 2014
My lady, my lady.
This I swear to you.
If I was a knight you would never have to walk.
If I was a knight.

Upon my horse you be with your arms around me.
Where I would deliver you to your designation?
Oh, I would be so gallantly to you.
That you just have to notice my noble side.
If I was a knight.

With my armor own and my shield in my hand.
I rightly will defend you from any harm.
You would notice my bravery mixed with my charm.
If I was a knight.

Even if I wasn't knighted I would still stand out.
Because my strength of chilvary comes from within.
I would be devoted to my lady.
Highly respected with merits of sovereignty in your eyes.
If I was a knight.

I just believe I would be the man you seek in tough times.
Your warrior for all times.
Ranking higher in your heart.
A man filled with dignity and respect.
Called the best of the best.
If I was a knight.

While I just a noble soul.
I still would protect you like a gentleman should.
Jay Ash Aug 2014
a knight in shining armour
to win a girls heart

a knight in shining armour
to gleam in the sun

a knight in shining armour
is a man who has never seen battle

my armour is not shining
but dented and damaged

i am not a knight in shining armour
the shine is long gone
only a crust of dried blood remains

i am not a knight in shining armour
once maybe, but no more

for i have seen too many battles
and will see too many more

yet as She views Her suitors
She has already chosen Her champion
long before the fight-

there he is boldly:
a knight in shining armour
Valora Brave Dec 2016
0.  I was just trying to breathe

Every inch of my story line
I drank like coffee that you need so badly
You don't notice the taste of ash
it leaves in your throat
and when I breathed out smoke,
slowly gliding from my tongue,
you'll know, the words I can't choke
the ones I hung to dry,
but left them outside
through a crisp winter season
and returned just in time
to catch the lullaby as it dissolved into water.
I couldn't wait any longer.
I broke them into icy pieces
that fit back in my mouth.
I held them there long after I breathed
the blizzard that had formed in my stomach.
I couldn't swallow, I couldn't breathe
and I couldn't wait for you to leave.

So I locked my icy breath in my hands
and looked for silent corners between buildings
so I could begin to understand
how to squeezed out the blood from the words I've been spilling

I. White Moonlight

I went up the mountain side
listening to the canyon's song.
Dancing beneath the tree lines, I soaked
in the pines and cypresses.

I ran to the west, searching for a place to rest.
Fell asleep in the foothills
and had to run home to catch the light
Running in the dark, I would not beat the night.

[I was a villager traveling through
There came the White Knight with red hair in view
offered a space, a safe place for the night]

The white knight held out his hand to an aching soul.
Trusting the purity in a path lit by moonlight
Unknowingly, I would never trust white again.

II. Static

Deceived and seduced by the safety and warmth of white,
There was a subtle yellow tint in your light
that began to scream from its origin and fight against the walls
A cinderblock room colored in skin absorbed my calls

There was air trapped in my bones
that halted movement and created unfamiliar vocal tones
There were no cuts or bloodstains,
but all that was white drained to red
as he wrapped my limbs in reins
(to) make them dance, make them spread
Dance for the White Knight
make them move as you please, White Knight.

This body was a delicate ship that had been sunken
from a night spent in a dungeon
with a monster disguised as a man
whose touch would shave inches from my wingspan
Now these limbs do not belong,
the pressure outlines of your unwelcomed hands
Whimpers became the lyrics to my muted, morning song

I didn't know, how minutes can become tattooed in your veins
with each breath, a gentle push of blood through your body
you begin to taste the ***** again
the red clouds invade and bring me back to the monster's den

Now he holds these layers as the corners all peel
from a defeat long ago, a kidnapping, a delicious steal
The potency of your dominance
the power you must have felt
in watching a flower melt

III. Silence

The moon is now a cold light,
but nothing is wrong.
A response clean as white-
A secret
to be naked and unprotected for so long.

My youth cools the coffee
My stomach burns the atmosphere
encapsulating me
Teeth marks stains on my pillowcases
In the day, there is outward harmony
Like carefully crisscrossed shoelaces
Night falls with the sound of silent sobs.
My walls begin to melt.
They are turning yellow
Reliving how it felt
to be betrayed by something white.
I can't live through the day with anticipation of the night
when that white light floods in
I try to tear you out from beneath my skin

IV. Don't Try to Love Me

The luxury to be still.
Motions that were quiet
Set the music to your gaze
as you reopen the tears
When will you open the steel curtains,
you drape around your heart?

I run my fingertips and I can’t find
how you’ve cloaked the mistakes in your architecture
There is nothing poetic about solitude
Let me pinpoint the coordinates of your pain
Let me find the exact longitude
Let me be your constant latitude
I know you are alive

You live in some unknown torment,
I once saw you writhe in the night
and under the moonlight

He didn’t know
How I was preoccupied
I had to settle the background noise
the constant buzz between my ears
that fills my head so I could never hear
How much he could have loved me.

V. Patience

How sweet to be loved by you
You are warm weather in February
You are the reflection of a mountain in a reservoir
mais mon humeur est noire

We were in a large room lit
by one lamp in the far corner
when words poured from my jaw of glass,
I guess I could have asked
but it seems no one knows
the cadence and way words can flow
into our hearts and puncture the soul

How sweet it was, to think I could be loved by you
You are figurine of my fears
A January wedding in three years
A shadow mapping an escape plan
Yet I lace my fingers in your hand

You don't belong with me
but when the delicate words
trembled from your lips
and your voice stopped
with my stare
Both your hands in my hair
I wish I knew how to tell you,
but I couldn't remember why
you had to be someone to just pass the time.

VI. Deliberate Return

It should have felt like
a lifted weight
so I could move through
an unlocked gate

brush your teeth on my neck
and your cheeks across my chest
I thought last time was the last time
Tiny drops became the anthem
And the tears found a quiet path
To roll onto my belly
Between you and me

I could still taste the poetry you left in my mouth
the deception and interception
of my growth
and of my youth

My clothes hung off my back
darkness from all the sleep I lack
Trying to wash out the scent of you
after 6 years, I thought I'd be through
but you've kept me here and I've let you

I am a lost warrior in the meadow
Treading water every night
Trapped in an internal fight
You held me in the shadows
Grabbing at the wildflowers in my breath
But I just kept breathing in the echoes
Of a time I must let go

The mist of my trouble followed me in March
I’d sit with tea and say things like ‘I feel better, but maybe not tomorrow’
There was no promise
Just moderate disbelief
No security in my sleep
So when I shook your outline out of my sheets
Laid in bed where I once lost my youth
I wish that this was not my truth

VII. Shuddering While Healing

There is a section of the river where
the current sends it’s shivers
The wind dances with the tree branches in slow motion
(but) I was grown with my toes on the edge of the ocean
Leaning in with your hand and handsome love songs
about relentlessness and forgiveness
You sang a gold song
like a January river
flowing beneath the ice
You thought your love could break through
that shallow ceiling, but I couldn't hear the tapping
as you drowned beneath my feet
I was submerged in the cross currents
pulling me and hugging me caught in the center
how I heated up and bent you
then left to wade in the river
how you stayed next to me
and remained never bitter

I can't find the line
and I can't ask you to throw me one
because I'm dragging you in as I float through
tracing the fire I began on this river
with my fingertips
and remembering how I was grown on the shore
but how I can never be sure
if the breath in my ear
is someone to be trusted
or if the breath in my ear
is that monster crawling near
taking the color, once again, from my atmosphere.

VIII. Fragile

The sweet kisses he planted on my shoulders
and the moves he made were full of truth
The guilt he felt should have been mine
but the longer he stayed the more I felt fine

For the other’s love was simply beige
And outlined in black
I didn’t want excitement
I didn’t want lust
It was not enticement or boredom
It was from the buildup of rust
between my bones.
And I listened to your breath against my shoulder through the phone.
It hit me like an ensemble
predicating the concerto.
You were just an instrument.
And here I thought I was the conductor
just dreaming of ways to escape.
And I don’t sleep well when I’m next to him either.
Because I’m dreaming of ways to relate.
And I don’t sleep well when I’m alone.
Because there’s no one left to blame.
So now trying to be tame
Searching for an answer
in a small place like alone

IX. Releasing

What it means to be powerful
I saw it in shades of red
To find your feet still melt the snow
To find the only security is within
the confounds of your frozen bones
I was sure that diving meant drowning
but I've been drowning on the shore
Since you touched me and wanted more
Since you saw me raw
I evolved into a monster
scratching and clawing at your dungeon's door
You can't keep me here forever

You displaced my trust in balance
and turned something beautiful into something *******
But if I can see your belly button,
then you were born once too.

What does it mean to be powerful?
I can do it in soft baby blue
I can do it with the haunting memory of you,
but I don't want you with me anymore
So, good night white knight.
You don’t get to have this moonlight
and soon I will no longer be afraid of the color white.

X. Tenderness

That was the name of my pain.
It was not the bitterness
that makes us take down photographs
or change the song.
It was not about bitterness.
It’s about tenderness
and distance

I learned that the silent pauses
between gusts of wind causes
more sound than running facets.

I learned when you’re ******* for feelings
You start to feel the weight of the ceilings
We just hold on our backs and call it 'dealing.'

Trying to achieve the humility of a willow tree
Turning yellow in the slow descent to winter
But I’m not going to wait to give you what you need
White knight, tonight, I leave
Because I know you’ve been living in me like a splinter
Strong enough to puncture
Weak enough to be removed
This glass castle is just a structure
That could be improved

But you already made a house
And now you’re trying to pick out decorations
Let me tell you, humans are not decorations
Another human should be a matched foundation
I think you almost saw that too
When you felt the vibration of the wind from me to you

Terrified because it’s never about growing
it’s about pride.
Too scared of showing
the days we cried
cried so hard it became
the anthem of our week.
No, we can never show we are weak

The fragility of our pride
So we disconnect, in order to protect.

Let me tell you, no one describes this life as a glide
If they do, they lied
Everyone is terrified or uninteresting
Yet we are all putting up walls and distancing

Farther and farther
What would it feel like if I asked you about the sound of tenderness?
Or what it looks like to be repaired?
We are so afraid of being unprepared
we don’t hear how the wind
sounds like children growing
How healing feels like the roll of the river
and just because you shiver
does not mean you will be cold forever
and those silent pauses between gusts of terror
when we are just a step away from pulling that lever
are the moments we should reflect on
These are all those things that cause us
to be terrified
and learn to be tender

XI. Happiness Doesn’t Leave a Mark

How do I tell you
that every day used to be a battle?
One that I fought because I had to
so I could get up and fight the next day.
It was never about winning.

This is a Saturday night kind of pain.
The kind you feel that doesn't belong to you.
But at least you are no longer numb.

I want to show you where I'm from.
That childhood house that saw too many ways
to shatter plates on holidays
When I left, I grew back wings
and flew through the haze
You see, plates and whites are just things
but you can make anything a symbol
and when you see that this is no signal,
this is a sign. That I can be standing here with you
and still die
but this time, maybe I’ll let you inside
I've been too many people to start anew
I've loved the color blue
Loved a man with an amber hue
I was damaged in a yellow room
but I cannot match a color to you

My mother,
She said "the weakest point in a rope
is where it connects to another
and your insides are tangled"
You see, I can live with the knots
I want to look at you and know
You can trust this knot to hold
You know I'll pull through
You're not so scared
of a scar, or a few
Because I want to share where I've been with you
*and that includes the happiness too.
Rafhael Vieira Mar 2015
Oh dear brave knight,
Who ventures into the wilds
Please draw your sword
And fight away the horde.

She's a hero into my heart
With the strenght to tear us apart
Come here and fight away
The monsters that are wide awake
And then eat this piece of cake.

She's always into a fight
Because she is my brave knight
Come here and claim your prize
Because this is the tale of the knight.
Izzy Mar 2013
I am the hero who remains unsung,
The brilliant, the innocent, the beautiful young.
The resilient youth who is ever strong,
Who never gives up and always forges on.

Who doesn’t rest her weary bones,
But struggles through life ever alone,
She rescues the weak, and slays her foes,
And onward on her journey the lonely knight goes.

From town to town, to fight and war,
Images of death never seen before,
Each death she causes has its cost,
And soon her brilliance and innocence are lost.

She takes on the dragon, the wizard and witch,
And battles on without a hitch,
But with each step her youth is left behind,
With each ticking clock she hears the passage of time.

One step further, one battle more,
To help the weak and save the poor,
To rescue the damsel and aid the king,
And never of the hero do the people sing.

Never is she thanked for all she’s done,
Never do they recognise that she’s the one,
Who kept them alive and kept them safe,
Never do they think that she may need some space.

She’s seen so much evil; she’s seen so much pain,
‘Is there any happiness in life to gain?
Is there sun beyond the cloud?’
The lonely knight asked aloud.

She could see that darkness lay in front,
And that if there was trouble she would bear the brunt,
No love was waiting for her, no warming home,
She was the knight, she travelled alone.

Finally she opened her eyes,
To the truth that lay beyond the lies,
To the despair, and death of this barren land,
And no longer could she bear stand.

The knight has fallen to the ground,
Lying face down westward bound,
She fell before she saw the light,
The lost, the lonely, the Fallen knight.
wehttam Jun 2014
May be I’ll start writing, today.  
The story of Zen Zero.

I realized that all good things come to an end.  The tears, the affairs, and even the faintest revelation about my relationship to the Emperor of Japan.  I’ll need help and... well, the truth can be tolled.  It can be that the faintest belief, that we as free people are subject to the king, our God.
A king stands in truth as our kin.  The love that has existed for a thousand years, about justice, permanence, and legend are here.
It all started 7 years ago.  According to the book of John, the 3rd book.  The face of his majesty does have an Imperial Guardian.  In any colour, red, black, blue, white, and even green.  Each color resembles the color of trust.  
I started training in the Emperor's garden at the age of negative 6.  Before my mother can conceive her unborn child in a marriage.  Like the burning of Shin Cho' Palace.  
"Oh, how they forget so quickly, the truth?" says my mother.
They forget so quickly the majesty and power of the Emperor's memory of Mother Japan.  In his Majesty's eyes, how many lovers stir the colors of benevolence.  Where and when does it exist and stop for us as an American patriot sold to slavery for spy’s.  All of his subjects do will and listen to the cry of patience in his family’s quarters.  
My father at the time of his marriage did not know the Emperor's name, I had asked my mother in her heart if she knew the king.  They are no longer married.  They had tried to burn down the Emperor's Palace with a marriage.  But I had already existed, in the love of my family at a wedding joining men and women.  I remember some singing, all though in my mother’s ears, really bad singing. In her head or mine at the wedding, whichever is greater.  Maybe the song was worthless or was the singer already lifting her fingers to strike matches on the bamboo fortress of the young emperor.  
They have had many statesmen destroy the dream that Japan has.  Through lies, corruption, and *******.  Each of the last three I had to conquer to be his Majesty's Justice.  I did not earn the right to judge any such subject or people, it was given freely at that time to children.  I had learned to love the Emperor, even in my own desire to please him and her.  
The lies were towering revelations about the coming of man in God's kingdom, and how the will of imperial veils never existed for the properties of mankind.  The corruption was the setting of dowers or dowries for the subject of lost families, in the forbearance of lucher escaped only by the luck of liars.  And then the dreams of revelry, owned by the ungodly and chaste men of the burning palace, whether sediscious, or whether the fables absolving time in the palace to a judgment had already met the Emperor.  
All of the priests (pre-ests) had to pray; for the remaining time of eternity, for the true judgment of his Majesty's subjects. It was to be taken from the subject of srys to the Emperor's Knight.  
To many were lost in the munitions of war.  Laws that govern and sanction truths were not available to those of absolute corruption.  Stalwarts, stonewallers, and stoners were becoming of the anti-gentry.  The laws were never to be discouraged by zeal, or by trial.  The laws had to represent the ability of love to change time even if the object of factions destroyed the old way.  They had taken the truth to prepare Neoteny for where the first Imperial Guard had placed his head.  The first Imperial Guard, that I became before birth had taken his own head with a weapon made by treason.  
My mother’s dress was made out of spider silk.  A giant spider played Chinese checkers with the Imperial Guard for my head also.  Never the less, the palace, this time was not burned.  The dress was made out of falling stars and spiders silk.  She had found the Emperor's tailor and traded my soul for the wedding.  The pictures that were retrieved from the wedding of my mother and father have ruminated in antiquity since the time until by birth my life.  The seers and srys wanted my head to take up the Emperor's chalice.  His cup, filled with my blood, Simian blood.  
I did not want to go through with it, birth and death before becoming subject to royalty.  Seeing the world before consummation, as I had was never thought of, it was seen as impossible unless by treason we had chided a woman of royalty.  
I have seen the last major asteroid go through our galaxy before it had ever had been a present particle of mutiny.   It proved to the child (myself) in gestation, between man woman at the wedding that time will pass just as quickly before my mind’s eye as it had at the day of Pentecost.   More than 500 billon people were to be saved by God rather than by a humble dismantling of a defense lawyer.
I had seen how flowers are made by tiny Zen Zero bumble bees going to and leaving from daisies and roses, and orchids.  How each seed takes roots and as do the munitions for treason and tears; how each man whom chooses to change their name because of treason begins to understand change when his wife chooses his name.  (The reference is to Zero attacks, suicide attacks.)  How the time and life and essence of life begins in literacy as a language of love.  Every old man on earth can help me write the scripts, but can the country of old men help me change the prophet?
As long as there is war in the palace there will be treason?
The spirit of the samurai was trying the youth in the palace.  From the first born male to the last lady in quixic geisha.  All uniques were to be placed before the Lord for appointment.  Any dreams of or visions of truth were a breach of solemnity lost by the virginity of the family.  The parents of each state were subjects to the Emperor's people, and to the chosen for freedom and slavery.  How many shining knights were to remain in the Emperor's house?  The uniqueness was subject only to the reason of the generation of the age.  Not many of my men had anything left after the life of the quill or pen of the Knight Meteyi had begun to take its place with the heads of loyalists.  His sword remains in the hand of the Majesty of Japan.  No knowledge, no lore, no president, no kin, or liars can stop his reign.  As if the last days of our youth were spent dismantling the bombs we had made during the last few battles over crude extravagance.  Oil, crops, metals, space, as space became a way to admire men in statehood was the example of treason to the following.  Democrats and Republicans began to try as is a trail of laws to and from changes for the people without a loyal subject to observe in service to a Nation.  Freed men became a bureau of Federally Bureaucratic Investigative subjections.  Whether the phone would sense its use and had no service.  Men tried by srys had needed no way to communicate, they were objects, objections, and objective to democracies.  Any and all of the western knowledge of good or evil was not earned in monasteries, it was as it were seen in-between a marriage of a man and a woman and the consummation of the first born to be the king in his own mind. Centrally, intelligence and agency became a lost paradox.  The palace could be burned through neoteny, the truly lost man or woman had to be part of the worm.  The earthworm had to dig up the lost and the prophet from its own humanly death.  

Chapter 2
The dress as simple as it was, was taken off and laid in a box for saving.  It was to travel through time in the Emperor's Palace to serve has a mold, a pattern for quilting lovers of the family tree through the history of love.  After the child was conceived in love, the dress is worn and then placed back into the box for time travel. From a generation of mothers to another generation of lovers. No man was to wear the dress as an idea, thought or wisdom.  The reproach, the dress, and the marriage is virtue encoded into a structure of life   The wisest man let the Emperor dream life into the belly of prophets through the dress.  The smartest scientist understood the impeccable reason of lust and gave all to his bride for the grave that the earthworm had trusted.  The publican had the dress made as a dowry to the tribe of Roman man.  And the Emperor breathed life into the woman with a few breaths at the wedding.  The subjects, the publicans had tried the Emperor for their bride, by making the flowers lean toward their lovers.  They had tried to tell the knight of the Emperor's Palace that the sun had also retired due to mutiny in the ranks and castes of statesmen.  The son will bend light into the palace of wisdom, and the subjects do grieve the stories from prophets.  
At exactly 10:03 central eastern standard time, the states men forgave themselves of suicide and left to burn the palace.  
Each dressed as royalists.  The burning of Chinju Palace is the last thing I remember before giving up to the sound of a 3 or 4 year old woman singing.  The next thing I remember is being dropped on the floor in the delivery room to a rattle and brattle of childish whims.  Like, the sound of laughter, but only as a fury of deceit, the singer was hurt when I had asked her to join the wedding ceremony.  She excused herself of the ceremony as was or were not subjects to the birth of the kings men in harmony.  

She tried, and wanted to steal the dress.  

Chapter 3
There was mostly nothing in the womb. Except Dogma.  My father, as dogma.  He would whisper to her in bed and they would giggle about never understanding anything ever again.  I excepted NAME for my name.  They didn’t know if a boy or a girl were to be born.  I could know the difference at the time of their conversation.  I then realized that the 3 years prior to conception were perfect.  And I, the Emperor's Knight, was tolled.  Tolled the way bells sound and the way people love to hear the news.  The way light has no existence in the womb, I was tolled the way Sandalphon treaded upon the tribe of Israel.  
Lying was not invented yet, well,... while in the womb, but I had heard some whispers in the darkness.  The camera couldn't fit in, I called and tolled the camera from the womb, in between to friends.  I called the camera, Dragon.  The dragon is the trust moving in-between true and time.  The Dragon, Meteyi had told me that we were going to write everything.  From the believe that martial arts were stronger than prayer, and to the reason that it was not true.  Factually, there was nothing but prayer and no martial artist had a sword bigger than the lie of the Emperor's dragon.  The dragon said, to my father,..."The world is to die for, and not enough."  The dragon also said to my mother,..."The purpose is in your belly as a rainbow in disgust."  He, the dragon almost couldn’t believe that I had mentioned to hymn that there was no way out of this without a dream so relax and let me fit in.  The doctor had to have heard of the loyalist dream of a birth right.  Basically, I didn’t want him to slap me for the first breath.  I hurt bad, like out of a sarcastic Scotlandish parody.  Many, many, many, men quit trying to go through the sry after that.  My mother creeped up to me after my kin had asked the doctor to pick me up off of the floor.  She smiled and handed the birth certificate to the nurse and read my social security number to my father on the phone, he was on duty at the Air Force Base.  My ears were still clogged with seminal fluid, but I could feel her dream a name into my soul.  She can know the Emperor's knight.  After a few moments, my cry as chide by the Emperor, into being a whisper of life.  From that moment on in my life, I could not cry ever, as a child cries.  Otherwise I could be a whisper.

Chapter 4
Every chance at change that had gotten to us was used by running from the dragon.  He liked Batman and hated Robin but new to fathers, knew that hatred kept something’s safe from the palace. The palace could never get filled by whispers.  The whispers only object to democracy and help the camera.  The daguerreotype was possibly the only thing that couldn’t lie.  It was considered lye to gossip worshipers.  Gossip may have started the war on bugs.  Like bugs in ceaseless noise are prayer or whispers, like gossip.  When bugs stop whispering, some seemingly are bad with superstition and others are horrible with bugs.  
The next few years, were also perfect.  I had no idea who else, I could be.  Absolutely perfect, the Emperor subjected us to love.  I could **** all day, eat as much as I wanted and was warned when they thought, like a whisper.  When it was time to eat, when it was time to bath and when it was time to be quiet and sleep were similar to whispers.  Diapers were not invented yet, I had to invent them.  My mother used to get sick from the pain of laundry and sleeping with me.  When the diapers were *****, she wash them and place them back on my ****.  Like a good, palace guardian, I used them up.  The new diapers had an air of mutiny to them, the disposable ones.  We never kept trash in the house.  The signs that we have had a king for dinner were never to be seen, but everyone had the right to change pants.  
Many of the ideas in life shared before birth were not existent after birth.  It was not until my family had meet the Emperor that... we needed to love God by learning to pray.  

Chapter 5
When we met the Emperor, it was easy to say that no whispers were used.  Other things were.  A memory, not a book was here.  There was no time, the palace he made for me was from God and a lot of people wanted in.  The Royal subject was the Emperor's first knight, my father's.  I had to memorize time, which in turn was not mine.  The actual Emperor thought, that I, am a poet of sorts.  We spelled the word memory in the sky together without words, whispers, or gossip.  The next few years were spent dyeing as tap or a drill bit would being to make a hole for fastening life to the surface of my families.  Called a tap and die, the whole of life must be treaded through time without a spry attempt to vacancy.  After the Emperor, my mother and father did not know that meeting the pope was bad.   The Emperor is good.  

Chapter 6
Mainly my ability to learn, had started to fail.  There was not need to have ability.  But walking was hard.  When I stood, I was pushed through, walking.  Like a battle of balance and superstition.  Crawling had no sense, being picked up made things silly.  When wanting to be here, and not knowing how to get there through crawling, here I was a a chubby fat knight.  Father used lemons on my taste buds and cracked when he knew not how I loved them.  He had to make work to pay bills and I learned that without a whisper.  So we would sh
Chapter 8 to follow after inspection.
Kevin Haack May 2015
No one likes a
Knight who returns
On time but they sure
Love one who's
They were both there
But one had to go back
The one that was sent
Home had to go through
The feeling of
Not being there
This knight began
To hate themselves
While the other
Was left there protecting
Their prize
They waited and waited
For the other knight
Rarely did they show
On the day of return
Everyone loved the
Missing knight
Though the knight
Had returned the other
Knight hate for themselve
Did not end
Madds Jan 2012
The slain Dragon rests it's head on your shoulder
He fought well but was a better friend
A friend that sacrificed his last breath
For your protection.
Unlike the Knight.

The Dragon was always there for you
Unlike to Knight
Who called to you only when he pleased.

Unlike the Knight, the Dragon wasn't selfishly seeking fame.

The Dragon made you happy
with dandilions and compliments, unlike the Knight.

Unlike the Knight, the Dragon saw past your royalty
and into your true heart.

The Dragon, unlike the Knight,
wasn't in an agreement to marry you.

The Dragon loved you
in every way,
unlike the Knight.

Unlike the Knight,
You loved the hideous,
firebreathing, caring, loving beast
that was the Dragon.
Finally finished thanks to The Bryce Post.
William Bednar Nov 2011
The young and bold Sir Lancelot
Had shunned the lady of Shalott
And all the swooning maidens, dear.
His heart belonged to Guinevere.
And were she not to Arthur, wed,
She'd have the heart-sick knight instead.
But so it goes, such is the luck
Of sad sir Lancelot du Lac.

When first he came to Camelot
The orphan knight, Sir Lancelot
Did prove his worth to Arthur's Court
In jousting, and such noble sport
And with his charm and courtly grace,
His confidence and handsome face,
He won the heart of Guinevere,
And so he found his heart's one fear.
But so it goes, such is the luck
Of sad Sir Lancelot du Lac.

In tournaments and deeds of arms,
He never fell to earthly harms.
His Lady's scarf about his breast,
He held aloft his knightly chest
And for her honor always strove,
And worshiped her with courtly love.
But she is wed, such is the luck
Of sad Sir Lancelot du Lac.

Beneath a tree, the young knight slept
And one day, four queens on him crept,
The chief of them, Morgan Le Fay.
With magic, they stole him away.
A choice they begged of him to make,
That one of them his heart should take.
But love is strong.  They had no luck
In tempting Lancelot du Lac.

When Melegans stole Guinevere
A cart, Sir Lancelot did steer
To reach the hold where she was kept,
Then toward the treacherous knight he leapt.
He bested him with slash and blow,
But to Sir Lancelot's great woe
His Lady simply laughed in jest
And saw no honor in his quest,
For he arrived upon a cart.
Thus, broken was the young knight's heart,
And in a rage he left the place.
He longed just for his Lady's grace.
But so it goes, such is the luck
Of sad Sir Lancelot du Lac.

The young and bold Sir Lancelot
Had shunned the lady of Shalott
And all the swooning maidens, dear.
His heart belonged to Guinevere.
And were she not to Arthur, wed,
She'd have the heart-sick knight instead.
But so it goes, such is the luck
Of sad Sir Lancelot du Lac.

So when he quested for the Grail
He made a promise he would fail.
He said he'd not love Guinevere,
But as he spoke, he shed a tear.
He knew one day their love would end
The table round, and hurt their friends.
So when this promise he did break
The land of Camelot did quake.
For Agrivan, King Arthur, told
His wife did love Lancelot bold
And Arthur sent her to the pyre
To end her sinful love, in fire.
But Lancelot, his queen, did save
And Arthur fell into the grave
And all the knights of Table Round
Were torn apart, could not be bound.
And thus the fall of Camelot
Was caused by one Sir Lancelot.
But so it goes, such is the luck
Of bold Sir Lancelot du Lac.
KuyaMak Jan 2018
Sleeptight my love..
I know you're tired and sick.
I feel sorry I'm not there to relieve you.
I know you're strong
and you can handle yourself like you always do.
But baby you are like a princess to me.
And I am a knight
willing to risk his life
just for you to be alright.
But right now I can do nothing.
and that makes me feel sad.

It feels bad that I'm too far when you need a hug.
It feels bad when
you need food and company
but I can't provide
I feel really sad that I can't be by your side

Oh.. how I wish
I can be a knight
whose strong enough to fight
whose strong enough to be by your side
whose strong enough to hold you tight.

How I wish I can be that strong not to be this coward knight.
David Nelson Jun 2013
Once a Knight always a Knight
(but is once a day enough?)

Once the Queen has dubbed thee
thou art a Knight forevermore
but should thouest knock more than once
on thine lovers door

to spend a life known as Sir
not quite as good as Sire for sure
but to feel the lips of your love
behind closed doors not so demure

if making love to her just once
can completely fulfillest thine dreams
just imagine how wonderful then
to hearest her multiple screams

that would surely dependeth of course
if thouest were using thine sword correctly
and providing a thorough tongue lashing
applying thine tongue directly  

me thinks proving yourself worthy
to thine country and Queen more than fluff
but hugs and kisses for your lady of love
once a day not nearly enough    

Gomer LePoet ....
this was overheard coming from Sir Lance-a-lot :)
Jaderbug dreams Nov 2013
Who will be my knight in shinning armor?
Maybe I won't have one...Maybe I will...
Will he have blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes? Or will he have brown flowing locks and chocolate brown eyes?
Will he be tall or short? Rich or poor?
            Will that even matter?
If I find my knight will he swoop me off my feet?
Will he stay with me forever? Will he be mine and I his? Will he come or will I have to save myself? Should I search for him or should he find me? Will he go to school with me or will we meet when I'm traveling the world...
Will he be my best friend? Will he save me from the darkness I feel inside? Will I meet him at all? Will we die in peace together?
             Do I have to change to find the love of my life?
Will he be my prince and I his princess?
Will he hold me when life crumbles down or will he be the reason I need to be held in the first place?

So where are you my knight? Where are you now? Can't you see I need you? That I need to be held, that I'm lost and need to be found?
I need to be brought back to life and that's where you come in...
             Will you come rescue me?
Do I have to save myself?
What if I'm not strong enough? Will I die alone and unhappy just because you never came? Will you break my heart? Can I be found... Can I be fixed? Can you mend this broken heart? Can you be here for me and I for you?
Will you EVER see me? The True me? If you really were my knight in shining armor wouldn't you see? My prince.. my love? Who will you be?

Will it be you?
How had he found himself in this dungeon
a knight thrown in here.
Sent by his king on his first secret mission
true he was dressed as a peasant.
Harshly he'd been treated a new experience
but not regretting being sent.

This awful place never inside one before
an eye opener for him.
Here he couldn't stay had to escape
report back to the king.
Noticed a sharp piece of wood at hand
shouting out a demand.

The jailer angrily came to the cell door
he banged on the grill.
In a temper the snarling man entered
within seconds he was dead!
Silently falling on to the dank stone
the knight left alone!

Few humans scurried about in passageways
of the castles lower depths.
Coming upon a sentry post a guard stood
soon his life had expired!
Putting on the uniform he was going home
with a sword he would roam.

Very lax security the knight slowly walked
into the alien countryside.
Luckily not challenged he saw a lone soldier
getting off his horse.
Never feeling the blow now homeward bound
with the information found!

Indeed the Barron was a traitor to his king
the knight an army would bring!

The Foureyed Poet.
A knight found himself in a dungeon but he had to escape. Sent by his king on this secret mission had to get home! The Foureyed Poet.
Elizabeth P Mar 2014
As you sing me a lullaby goodnight
I melt into your arms
I swear till I'm dead
That you were my godsent knight'
Oooh, oooh
Godsent knight

We don't need a castle
We just need some faith
And a little love
Love, love
My godsent knight
Oooh, oooh
Godsent knight

You heal my spirit
Better than any pill
Oooh, oooh
Turn my pale cheeks red
Yeah yeah yeah

My Godsent Knight
What do you hear when you read this?
Nicole Dawn May 2015
I don't want
A knight in shining armor
I don't need to be saved

I just want
Someone to talk to,
So I won't be so lonely

I just want
Someone to like me,
For me

I just want
Someone who is kind,
And will not hurt me

I just want
Someone who is funny
And makes me laugh

I just want
Someone who makes me happy
For a change

So maybe I do want to be saved,
Maybe I need a knight in shining armor
A mournful air beyond the fog,
Death can meet among the poisonous rubes,
Beyond the trees and past the deformed log.

The Knight in Shining Armor comes to save the day.
Bearing healing potions from afar in pewter tubes,
But he is much too late; the Fool has already faded away.

His tears are many, for the loss of a brother,
They are heavy and murky against the dreamscape.
Now for his revenge, he seeks a strange other.

On his new, and strangely enlightened quest,
He feels transparent ghouls kissing his nape
Little does he know it is the sign of a Witches test.

Maneuvering among the empty placed grave,
He keeps his hopes on a looming tower.
He approaches his becoming of an honest knave.

He must be quick and tighten his saddle,
Because a pursuing evil is a deadly power,
And this Knight in Armor must be ready for battle.

The danger of our Knight is not known to man.
To survive, the he must unlearn his past.
This evil he faces is formulating a plan.

The towers close in as he passes their gates.
A spicy chill, creeps up the Knights spine,
And he finally grasps the terror of what awaits.

Inside his mind, he questions going back.
But dismisses the though as a man on wine.
He secretly knows this creature is on his track.

As he pushes himself onward,
He reminisces on his brother, and his life.
The only defining thought for him is froward.

He takes his final turn around the final corridor,
Quick on his feet and ready with his knife.
At first sight, he though his vision must have been poor.

A woman whose beauty surpassed any he had ever seen,
Stood with her naked eyes set firmly on him.
This was the witch who had killed all he had been.

Unable to take the life of any woman,
The soldier took a last and final look
And plunged the knife into his abdomen.

The beautiful witch had won yet another soul,
She knew why it was his life she took.
Never mind the Fool, the Knight had been her goal.
Caitlin Fisher Dec 2014
My sweetest soldier left me and was dragged across the sea
My nights are now silent and my heart is drowned with fear
So, here I cannot stand to be

Through weary nights I held my guard
'till the stars came out to torment me
For, all the beauty of the night was now forever marred

My heart trembled with the candlelight
So I went to seek her chambers,but all was locked and barred
Even whispered words from my dear soldiers could do little to ease my fright

I wrote letters to my sweetest knight with sparkling, savage fury
I fought sleep away with every ounce of my might
Too soon, my hands and eyes grew weary

I filled my pages with stories of beasts we would nevermore fight
my eyes where too full of tears so I could not see clearly
I've lost my dearest companion and the bringer of my light

She sent letters back,of course, and they were wept over with many a tear
For a day, sprigs of goldenrod adorned my collar bright
for a day, at least, I forgot to think of fear

Then I had dreams of feathered serpents wrapped around her throat
her eyes were scratched out by hoary hell-kites and her heart was pierced with a spear
All my daylight hours, and all my nighttime too, to my knight I did devote

We continued writing letters and I lead my soldiers too
no one ever asked of what this did denote
'till fever caught me by my throat and threw my mind askew

My hands shook too violently and ink had streaked my page
In my letters, I tried so hard to have my pain seem subdued
My dear light-bringer needn't fear a fever's shallow rage

She saw through my ruse too quickly and I think she panicked more
I tried to calm her with winged words and locks of sage
I promised her there was a cure

My dreams were fueled by fire and the darkness lurking there
when I woke I fell sobbing to the freezing floor
She would have gathered me in her arms and kept me in her care

Beasts and berserkers set my night under siege
I could only see my sweetest knight scarred by bloodless warfare
Her spirit fell to the mercy of my new-found, thankless liege

My throat was streaked with clawing pain
cups of water I did beseech
bitter liquid assailed my body and bound my fate with chains

I saw my sweetest soldier and her hands skimmed through my hair
Her eyes shined like pearls which I hoped she would retain
Her kisses on my cheeks were so radiant and rare

I knew then never would we be apart
and in my chambers with the firelight there
I could rest with the keeper of my heart
kyle Shirley Jun 2016
He arrives in a tattered torn wardrobe
Scraped, scared, and beaten.

Still standing, looking death in the eye.

He does it for love.

Swaying side to side like a pendulum, with his head held high.

Death with his blank stare stands motionless at the man in front of him.

The dark knight rises out of the rings of hell to save his dear beloved.

after the dance with the pale raider

The dark knight's beloved see's a new knight off in the distance, radiant and shiny without a scratch on him.

As the dark knight falls to his knees after countless battles to save his true love, he looks up to find her in the arms of another.

He knows Love lost is better then none, but he is far too tired to care much longer.

Broken physically, and emotionally he lets his beloved go, stands up with his head held high and walks into the distance at a shambling speed right pass the two new found lovers.

One day he will meet a love that will go to hell and back for him much like he did for his last love.

**Until then, the dark knight he will remain

— The End —