Gallant Knight

A gallant knight of Old,
Held his sword of souls.
He sat upon a rock of mold,
his armour cracked with holes.

Sorrowful eyes looked to the west,
behind him a field of horror.
No food or water will he digest,
only thoughts of being an explorer.

It came from behind, the enemy,
swallows knowing the final pierce!
all about ego and jealousy,
his breastplate shudders, the impact so fierce!

A gallant knight of Old,
drops his sword of souls.
He fell from the rock of mold,
his armour cracked with holes.

Tears fell from his blue aged eyes,
and held the assassin, with a smile.
"The truth will appear from your guise,
your actions are that of spoilt juvenile".

And he who left this world,
many will remember his good.
But for the few who came and curled,
around a campfire and cursed his sainthood!



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