A Rebel Knight

A Rebel Knight

A Poem by bourgeois hippy

Ahhh, my fantastic days...


A rebel knight, he drew his sword
    Furnished his shield, and crossed the ford.

This outcast knight, he took a breath
    And with an eye, he faced his death.

A dragon tall; erect its spine
    rare and alone, one of a kind.

A clash of steel rang through the trees
    A gust of hope blew with the breeze.

He took a stance and made a leap
    Slew the beast, his sword drawn deep.

This rebel knight, he claimed his prize
    With rusted fingers and cryptic eyes.

Regained his mount, began to ride
    To find a cleric, then confide.

This wretched act, marked with disgrace
    Legend spilled, stained on his face.

The priest, he gasped, let out a curse
    “You Must Return, But Listen First. . .

Above Is Angry, And You Must Fear
    Your Time’s At Hand, And Coming Near.”

The rebel knight, he armed and grinned
    “You’ll Forgive Me Then, For I Will Sin.”

The distraught priest, sighed and he stood
    Took to bow, removed his hood.

With a blow the priest’s life was done
    The gruff knight fled, swift as the sun.

Onward he rode, to the king’s lands,
    Unsettled scores scathing his hands.

The castle in sight, he thought a plan
    Dismounting his horse, he reached in the sand.

Sift through it did, fingers forlorn
    His body able, his heart torn.

Fire and malice glazed in his eyes
    He voiced a chant, looked to the skies.

The clouds they came, silent and smooth.
    The earth it waited, trembled, moved.

His heated words flared as he spoke
    The sweat poured down, his armor soaked.

The guards in fright, heard but a sound
    As the stranger neared, reckless and bound.

Of the rolling hills, the figure grew near
    Closer and closer, approaching the tier.

This rebel knight, he slowed his horse
    His voice to speak, in pain and coarse.

From deep in his throat, out came a whisper:
    “You Took What’s True, Thus Death Redeem You.”

And as the nightsguard paced the keep
    The knight below, he took a leap.

Fingers breached the cracks of castle stone
Felt mud and grime, the remains of bones.

Scaling the castle wall, his goal to surmount
    Stone after stone, he quickly lost count.

High in the tower, the king’s chambers lay
    Certain candles were lit, ‘twas light as day.

A tower’s window, though safe from most
    Holds no hindrance when revenge’s to boast.

This rebel knight, climbed in the room
    Candles flickered and shadows loomed.

He turned around to face the bed
    The king he slept, though not yet dead.

“Awake, your face, for the last time-
    Revenge be at hand and will be sublime.”

The king he gasped eyes full of fear
    He struggled for breath, held back a tear.

“’Twas not my fault, she died on her own!
    I’d never harm, while sitting the throne!”

“You lie, you scum, and now you will pay
    For the life and love you stole that day.”

© 2009 bourgeois hippy

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Added on July 31, 2009


bourgeois hippy
bourgeois hippy

Hollywood, CA

It's hard for me to spit out words in an effort to create thought for myself to read later. Sometimes these thoughts are so hard to rationalize that I often wonder if they're anything but the dreams t.. more..