by Max Barry

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by Kemintiri of kemet. . 35 reads.

Black of Knight

[box][b][size=300]༄༅། །ལྷ་སའི་སྐད་།[/size] [size=78]This article contains Tibetan text.  Without proper rendering, you may see question marks, boxes or other symbols instead of Tibetan Characters[/size][/b][/box][center][b][size=105]The Knight upon his silvern steed,
Gazeth unto Eternity…
Helping all those weak in need,
Setting those once captured free…[/size]

[size=105]Armour stannic, lance borne high…
For the Brigands,
End is nigh…
Charging thieves into the ground…[/size]

[size=105]Shining armour, silvern steed…
But not his heart,
For there is no need…
But wanting pleasure for his part…[/size]

[size=105]The libertine Knight is fallen but hidden,
Seeking the prey who are but wan…
For indulging his urges is but forbidden,
Upon two little girls and a young man…[/size]

[size=105]Weak that one young girl was not…
Aiding her an older friend,
He the deity and Prophet…
From the Knight did he defend…[/size]

[size=105]The young man he had called for help,
He who was all alone then…
Fought the blackguard Knight, the alp,
Even when beyond his ken…[/size]

[size=105]The last maiden, violence survived,
Lived through abuse and cruelty…
But for[/size] [size=120]མུ་ཧ་མད[/size] [size=105]her love, she lived,
Swore foolishly to Knight’s fealty…[/size]

[size=105]Madness reigned over her life,
Visions, prophecies, did come true…
For[/size] [size=120]མུ་ཧ་མད[/size] [size=105]she longed to be his wife,
Were she not victim of rue…[/size]

[size=105]Her moralism tested, ancient lineage,
Against the Knight, degenerate…
Devotion to[/size] [size=120]མུ་ཧ་མད[/size] [size=105]was her vestige,
Of cachexy that reigned consummate…[/size]

[size=105]Concern became obsession,
Weakness overcame poor her...
Love was always perversion,
She knew and feared him as a cur…[/size]

[size=105]Ancient lineage forced silence…
Moralism degenerated,
She crossed the line and then the fence…
Where brigands rode against defence…[/size]

[size=105]The Brigand, upon his ebon mount,
Rode through anathema burned…
Pillaging, burning to the ground,
Oft-marked merely half-altered[/size]

[size=105]Blackened rags with barbéd sword,
None dared gaze upon his soul…
Out of fear they made a ward,
A ward of ignorance, never whole…[/size]

[size=105]The maiden, she half-blind and mad,
Skirmishing friends, the defenders...
Daring to speak to the Brigand,
Told him her story, expecting slurs…[/size]

[size=105]Common may the Brigand be,
Pillaging as the daylight faded…
Noble was the Brigand he,
Because for her justice he discloséd…[/size]

[size=105]Tears at emotion’s touch flowed,
Indescribable in any tongue:
With words poetic more like an ode...
From Justice’s heart, the people sung…[/size]

[size=105]Swoop came in the silencer,
Till the people sang no more…
But the song still lilts throughout the air,
As those who know hide from the law…[/size]

[size=105]The crossing of the borderlands,
Few knowing where she went…
Spiriting away at her own hands,
As the Black of Knight now Ends…[/size][/b][/center]

Kemintiri of kemet