|The Black Knight
Author: Rosencaster PM
A normal end Rhyme poem that I had to do in English four. I got a great grade and showed it off to a couple of friends who thought it would be neat to show it to more so I have decided to show it off here. please leave many reviews positive or negative, I would like to hear all.Rated: Fiction K - English - Poetry/Fantasy - Words: 375 - Published: 10-29-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8653419
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The Black Knight
A Tall being from land unknown known as a Knight
Wore armor as black as the dark dark Night
He was not a Man
Nor was he a woman.
He had no lad to call a Squire.
I don't blame for he did not hire.
His ride was nothing but a black Steed.
Covered in heavy black steel.
A monster he came to be on the Field.
All other knights came to Yield.
At the sight of his might.
Only to be rendered in fright.
He was rarely seen in his armor.
For the human eye might upset his honor.
Followed where ever he went by a dark shadow.
That would even make the thickest of hearts hallow.
In hordes the villagers scurried.
While most heroes were buried.
He had no lord to help with his meal.
Except the being that struck him a Deal.
No king stood before him without their lords.
For they all left with the horde.
The knight was nothing but lone.
Even when there was a blade to hone.
Even though he still lives this is all Judgment.
That the villagers made up because of his garments.
But one night of hallow fright.
A village was attacked by bandits in sight.
While passing through the forest by.
The black knight came to say hi
Standing in front of the village the knight drew his blade.
And only the dumbest of fools stayed.
As the knight readied his horse
They readied their horde.
As the villagers watched.
The bandits laughed.
Thinking one knight cannot win without wounds of severe.
But as a knight he had a code that told him nothing but to persevere.
With a high grunt the knight was in a charge.
As the knight did so did the bandits like a barge.
As they clashed they fought.
In horror they sought.
To the sight of one knight.
Who easily won in the light.
As he made his way to the village.
The villagers thought he would pillage.
But instead he bowed his head.
And went back to his stead.
Bewildered the village was confused.
For he was a pure knight of use.
Moral is simple never judge a book by its cover.
By Dean Smith