A knight's Sorrowful Tale

Rolling, rolling, rolling, roll back the hands of time,Roll back through the centuries, years, and seasons,Back to the days before computers and electronic crime,Before modern plumbing, women's suffrage, careers, and cars,To the days of queens and kings, lords and maidens,To an era of pheasants and servants, priest and knights,To a time when magic and might ruled by day and night.For here upon this faithful day in the eight hundredth year of our lord,Upon a grassy knoll, laced with wildflowers and towering oaks,A nameless knight stood with hair of hay and eyes of opal,Draped in a simple cape with his sword and shield at his feet,His stallion, black as the night, neighed and snickered behind him,He faced the heavens above and with a howl declared,'Why father have you forsaken me?'Shameless tears fell upon his cheeks as he searched For the sky above was clear as a slate of glass, no blemishes, No clouds mired its emptiness, no birds graced its surface,No answer did he hear, no sign did he see, No hope did he have, no time to change what was,He had but haunting images of all he lost,And memories of what once was, dreams of all that could of been.His eyes squeezed tight against the blindly rays of the sun,Refusing to turn from the Gods, he played the scene over and over,How he had ridden toward the castle, its cinders smoldering,Its gate collapsed, the walls crumbling and tumbling still,No life greeted him, no shouts of help, no tears of sorrow,No barking dogs, no chirp of chickens, only an eerie silence.Before he saw the fate of his wife and child, knights and servants,He smelled the stench of burnt hair and flesh,wood and stone, vomit and blood,For upon the beams of his castle two burnt corpses hung,They whirled and twirled, danced and bounced,Sliding from his horse, swinging his giant sword, one mighty sweep,He cut them from the beam with tears on his cheeks,They tumbled to the cold earth with a thud and clunk.He howled, raining curses down upon his enemies,Condemning the fiends to their fates,Uttering vile threats to empty ears and sightless eyes,For not a soul moved within his castle walls or outside its towers,Scattered around his courtyard, his knights and maidens laid frozen,His servants faired no better, for their corpses littered the smoldering floor,Not a creature stir, not a dog, not a chicken, not even a fly.With a flame within his breast, his sword raised in salute,He asked the father and mother to honor his request,To hold captive his enemies, to cease their reigh of terror,To sink their ships, halt their rows and sails,To condemn them upon his grassy knolls and shores,Sending their souls to a fiery hell, with flames of red and gold,He begged the gods above to hear his revengeful cries.As he bowed his head, pondering defeat and honor tarnished,A thunderous echo rumbled and wailed, a river gurgled and burble,The waves splashed and sloshed, creeping upon the shores, No gentle splatter, no gentle tug, but one of rage and might,With ravens dark as night overhead, their squeals echoing far and wide,And with a snap and a crackle, the sky exploded in fury,He smiled, believing the gods had not forsaken him.Fatigued settled within his bones, muscles protesting loud and clear,Slumped on his horse dark as night, stumbling and fumbling in the dark,Aimlessly walking onward and onward, circling the grassy knolls of his kingdom,No light to guide him, no prayers to utter, no hope to warm him,Only the fury of nature's tears and the soaring screeches of the ravens,He vowed to revenge his crumbling, tumbling dreams,For with his castle in ashes, his family no more, he held no dreams to his heart.Distance held no meaning as a whisk of a scent filled his senses,Burning oak, meat, human sweat, sex, and horses came to him,With a snarl, his spirit refreshed, he raised his mighty blade, A mighty roar, a howl, a scream, a war shout he cried, Charging forward with no cares, no prayers, no doubts astray,His sword sang true, his stead steady and strong,He besiege his foes without a prayer or a pardon, No remorse or sympathy he did know, only the swing of his mighty blade.As the light of dawn approached with reds and golds,He saw not the giant behind him, the towering beast charging forth,Or the mighty ax of wood and iron, stained in blood,With a thud, crack of bone, and a splatter of blood,Air rushed from his lungs, a frozen tear upon his cheek, his body fell,Sliding from his stallion, black as night, without a single thought,He laid upon upon his grassy knolls with towering oaks,His eyes staring sightless toward the heavens, and a smile upon lips,He joined his knights and maidens, servants and beasts, wife and son. Written November 27th, 2001 © on Nov 27 2001 06:33 AM PST   0 • 1