The Quaint Cavalier - Twist of Revenge
The Quaint Cavalier

Here was a man who shew forth no fear,
Here he stood afore me, so old,
The tale of armour remained untold,
In the corner of his eye slept a frozen tear,
He stood there calmly in the cold,
And he spoke, his voice boomed so bold,
His raiment bespoke of him, the Quaint Cavalier.

"Twas a golden morning, a brilliant, shining sun,
My armour glinted readily for tempted want,
Of war and power and sight of warm, running blood,
Dripping ever so eternally into the dark, dreary mud,
The spirit of war, my soul filled to haunt,
A fight to my eternity, to exile my run.

"So a fight I did seek, a war have I sought,
I reached to my shoulders, and grasped chain mail hood,
And begun to search for event, somewhere around,
And on did I see a far, away to be found,
So far below the cliff, where I stood,
And I looked toward the ground where evil men fought."

Here afore me, a man who shew no fear,
There he stood, to me so very old,
The tale of his armour still partially untold,
In the corner of his eye slept a frozen tear,
He stood there calmly, waiting in the cold,
He spoke again, his voice not as bold,
His raiment bespoke of him, this Quaint Cavalier.

"I stood there blandly, outlined in the light,
My sword resting aside me, I glanced toward the chaos,
Where merchants ran from deadly fighting men,
So I raised this silver blade, the gorgeous glinting gem,
and anchored armoured feet deeply in the moss,
And lept into the cool air, ready for a fight.

"The bandits heard my yell, and spun around to face,
As I, the knight, and bandit came together for a clash,
The four thieves hollered as they rushed toward me, the man,
And then my sword flashed menacingly toward the evil band,
One by one they drew their weapons, coming for a crash,
which rang aloud and deeply, when silver sword met silver mace."

Here afore me, a man who shew no fear,
There he stood, aging in the cold,
The tale of his armour, beginning to be told,
In the corner of his eye, melted that horrible, frozen tear,
While he stood there calmly, his face, so old,
And once more began he, his voice no more bold,
His armour and surcoat ripped, the Quaint Cavalier.

"I stood my ground unmoving, then with a flash of light,
My sword swung sweeping gorgeous arcs, seeking neck of brigand,
My sleeping silver blade awoke into its greatest dream,
Of blood red rivers and the deadly crimson streams,
Dropping men of practice so far into the bloody sand,
And then, hence the last had fallen, it hit me late that night.

"This great sword of power, this great sword of strength,
Came unto me angrily, my blood thirsty soul to kill,
And swung and hacked and thrust at me, my trembling body,
And nearly killed me so very quickly, my God, he
Saved my life that morning, against a sword ne'er still,
And defeated this, the greatest sword of longest length."

Here afore me stood a man of nonexistant fear,
There his aging bones walked upright, so old,
The tale of his surcoat beginning to unfold,
In the corner of his eye, now a fresh droplet, his tear,
While he abode upon his feet so cold,
And once more he started, his tale to be told,
His armour and his weapon rusted, the Quaint Cavalier.

"I strongly murdered them, death by death, man by man,
And one last look revealed their bodies lying in the mud,
This last look appalled yet every single knight,
Who would have looked in the direction of the fatal fight,
And they would have seen the dead, lying in their blood,
And realized the mortality of man will die, so it can.

"Yea, I stand before thee, sir, to tell thee a tale,
About my courage and my lust to do a bandit right,
And see where it has gotten me, with a flash through time,
And whence I still tell my tale before my fatal chime,
Which I know will ring its last for death of me tonight,
My clothing it torn, my armour is rusted, I look a little pale,"

He continued afore me, I could feel him near,
There his aging body nearly toppled, so old,
The tale of his deadly fight, now it has been told,
He let out a sigh of relief, it resounded like a cheer,
While he stood upon his feet, bare footed against the cold,
His armour fell beneath his body, I began to shed a tear,
And cleaned out the growing plant, a very deadly mold,
of revenge against my enemy, because I have been told,
And then my sight was filled deadly, filling fear
And my new found friend just disappeared, standing in the cold,
And left his surcoat, armour, weapons there, waiting into mold,
A moral told by this great man, my Quaint Cavalier.