Glory Knight
A sorrow, of a stirring, sleepless morn
I began to dream thus with my mind wide open
And t’was the strangest thing, too!
With the rolls of thunder thrashing and wind thus tepid
Sweet daffodils and thyme brush her brave calloused feet
And a handsome honeyed sunset, shaking off the chained darkness
Whose cold claws fed its radiant heart with utmost despair
Upon such sacrifices, this knight threw her incense
And she Sung, kneeling to the Sun with a stainéd sword
Tears becoming diamonds of the changing earth,
Flesh becoming blistered in cold, chiselled stone
Her parchment in quilled hand, charred and yellowed
Spoke of an enclave of souls fighting on the world’s edge
Who shook adversity from its deepest roots
And invited those willing to take this challenge
And t’was the strangest thing, too!
I dreamt thus with my eyes wide open
And my skin felt chilled, like smooth white stone
So I watched as the horizon sallow, rising from its hilt
And lifted my sword to catch its deeper glory;
The voices of those brave knights compelled me onward
Granting their sacred blessing of inner light
Over the dark shadow of despair
‘Be brave when the world turns its face from the Sun.’
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