A knights tale

The knight grows weary,
His shield, smashed
His sword, shunted and blunt.
Blood drips down his battered face.
A solemn thud as it hits the ground.

His fingers are broken.
Hands cut deep.
Scars that will last forever.
Yet his spirit is not deterred.
The thought of home
Comes to his mind.

Forcing himself,
Through the rain,
The blazing heat,
Toward home.
The one place that
He can call his own.

A long distance he travels.
The sole survivor.
Returning home.
Flag held high.

Finally he arrives,
He drops to his knees.
Rubbing his eyes,
He cannot believe what
He sees.

Devastation, destruction.
Everything ablaze.
With his last ounce of strength.
He rushes forward.
For an explanation
For what has happened.

But there’s no one in sight
Everyone dead. Gone.
Slaughtered by some foreign hand.
The agony. The anguish.
It’s all too much for the knight.
Tears of blood
He begins to weep.

No one to tell his tale to.
The victory he obtained.
Everything he knew
Everything he left behind.
All ashes now.

He finds his wife and child.
Raped before they were killed.
How he wishes he didn’t go
And leave them to this fate
Some knight he is.
One who could not protect
His people, his family.

He puts out the fires.
A gruelling process.
His body burned
And charred by the flames.
The with prayers to God,
He buries the dead.
A silent prayer for
Forgiveness as he
Covers them with earth.

After a few minutes of rest.
He sharpens his sword.
His last bit of energy spent
On planting his flag into the ground.
At the centre of home.
A last tribute to what was.

Resting his shield on a side
He swiftly strikes himself.
One clean blow
The sharp sword
Pierces his heart.

There’s no blood left in him.
Absolutely nothing.

Falling to his knees.

He finds his peace.