No More The Knight
Back, now distant past, I grasped the standard
to my chest
A valiant knight, or so it seemed, for my fair princess.
Never challenged, made lame, by my own complacency,
Until now I stand, empty and forlorn, my armour tarnished.
Never worn in combat, a mere shield, behind which I sheltered.
Whilst my fair lady fought my battles for me.
Today I stand, alone, no princess at my side,
The fight, gone from her eyes, wasted on my cause.
My loyalty unwavered, silent sworn, remains,
The stress of battles I never fought destroys me still.
No longer can she shield me from the blows,
Alone must I stand to restore her love for me?
I rise, as dawn breaks, my armour I must don,
My steed awaits, horses chained within.
Armoured well, yet with a wounded heart,
We gallop into the harsh light of day.
Toward the lonely moor, desolate, mist veiled,
As empty as my heart.
Astride a beast of steel, oil pumping heart,
We gallop the unknown, focused yet blind.
In valleys of beauty, a sightless man,
Instinct led, seeking answers, questions unknown.
How, to regain what is lost, her heart, her love
Torn from me by my own actions.
Through forest green, we ride, around the
lonely lake,
Then stop, to pull upon the weed.
Reflect upon, water born images of what has been,
Yet may never come again and then.
My tears fall, from stony granite walls,
To vanish, in the depths below.
Re mounted on my fiery steed, caution thrown,
We race to reach our journeys end.
Yet know not where it lies,
The road our psychotherapist and council.
Together rolled as one
Yet, speechless and silent under our gaze.
Home, at last, or at least it was,
No longer where the heart is.
Realization, time to pack, to load my steed,
Polish my armour and steel my heart.
For another journey Don Quixote like, from which I must return,
Worthy of the one I love, yet strong enough her love to earn.
Ian Woolger