Wondrous Knight.

The wondrous knight,

Carries his sword gallantly,

Striding through the moonlight,

With his horse and man in tow.

He will save any damsel in distress,

With one hand,

He will take the damsel in red dress,

And carry her away to safety.

But wondrous knight,

So seemingly wonderful,

Glowing in the light

And fighting like a gallant warrior,

Against the signs of darkness,

And supposed decay.

She is the damsel,

Not so in distressed,

Watching as he carves

The life out of lives,

The breath of last breaths,

A blade too sharp,

And gallant, not quite so,

And she cries,

Cries,

As the red,

Deepens in her dress,

The material, silk,

Caressingly close to her skin,

The wondrous knight,

Does not know,

That his beauty,

His gallantry,

His knighthood,

Does not hide,

The core inside,

The core of unforgiving,

Turning the yin and the yang

A neverending circle,

Of good deeds,

And brewing hate.

Oh wondrous knight,

The damsel should cry,

But she does not.

Instead,

She holds unto her heart,

The burden of the sorrows,

And whispers to the pains,

That she will,

Undoubtedly carry away,

As she runs,

And runs,

From the so-called Wondrous Knight.

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