~ Sir Daran, The Silver Knight ~
Alone sat Sir Daran, the Silver Knight
On a barren hill bathed in fading light.
His thoughts returned to the battle past
And the friends that now have fought their last.
" My page is lost to the men of the hoard
Of invaders that came with mace and sword
To ravage and loot these peaceful lands,
Spilling his blood on the golden sands.
What manner of men come with hatred
To these lands of farmers' and hunter's fire?
They claimed the hills as their own domain
Where only the King will ever reign.
Our band of Knights met the enemy
That splashed on the front in a gush of blood.
Swords rose and fell as lightening flashes,
Lances bristled, maces like lashes.
The battle swayed, first one then the other
Gained advantage but couldn't push it further.
Then my steed took the bit in his teeth.
His hooves beat a drum roll on the heath.
He struck the center of the enemy,
Biting and kicking in awesome fury.
My foes moved fast from his fearful wrath
And made, for the Knights, an open path.
Through the breech they sped and turning about
Struck the enemy rear a mighty clout,
Scattering their troops like Autumn leaves
Blown by the winds that our swords strokes weaves.
Now I sit in victory and wonder.
Was it worth the lives all torn asunder?
Did youthful Page give his life for naught?
Was Right on the side for which he fought?
One's freedom, it seems, will never
And the only way it will ever be,
Is if men of honor take a stand
To defend their loved ones and their land.
Now my Lady's safe for another while.
The people can live and love and smile
Till an invader comes yet again
To try our best women and our men."
The Silver Knight with his battered armor
Sits on the hill with resolve that's firmer
To give battle to any who'd dare
Threaten his land and his Lady fair.
~ Dragonfly ~
© 2004 used with permission