Black Knight

A mythical poem of chivalry

He rides with pride on the storm
lightning bolts held in his fingers,
he turns to smoke then reforms,
thunders on and never lingers.

Charged by cosmic currents,
through clouds and storming rain,
no hindrance or deterrents,
fear, favor or pain.

The black night covers the horizon,
his steed knows no boundaries,
the quest is sealed agreed upon,
hooves shod in ancient foundries.

The dappled light of dawn appears,
the rider surges onward to
a destination of new frontiers,
emerging from the blue.

The Black Knight’s sword
now drawn and ready
by charter of accord
his steely arm both swift and steady.

In one swift swath he sweeps his sword
and severs the shining shackles
charging onward to his mission
raising his rival’s hackles.

Then with a roar he opens the door
to both heaven and hell
in one mighty swipe he finished the fight
the ancient scriptures tell.

From her forlorn fear and prison
she’s lifted in his arms
then beside and astride
is released from further harm.

Being free there’s reverie,
the Black Knight has won the fight
with his love they gallop back to the castle
out of the burgeoning black night.

©

David Rudder
20th December 2020

Thanks for reading.