The Foolish Knight

He stands, stoic and bleeding Letting the bile seep Angered, not by betrayal But by his own folly His armour lies empty Shed gleefully and with purpose Within arms reach but unused Because he needs to be mocked No one ever asked for a Knight But he was shined and ready Because a Knight was all he'd ever been The piercing was unnoticed And without malice And it continued methodically By his own hand Stabbing, stabbing Find the heart Until the bloody warmth Replaces the pain He needs to be numb To remind himself He was never a Knight Just a man who knew too much