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Travis was not tired one bit, he had no intention of sleeping.
He desired more than blankets and covers, and the promises his sheets lay keeping.
In bed, he squirmed, as the candlelight burned, he tossed and turned on his side.
-Oh that he could be someone, somewhere far away, he could be Sir Travis, the Knight.
"Gather round this table" he'd bellow to all, "a dragon approaches the town!"
While villagers trembled, the brave ran away, but Sir Travis, the knight, stood his ground.
This dragon blew flames of blue from his mouth, not a pupil was seen in stare.
But Sir Travis approached, undeterred by smoke, and the fury awaiting him there.
 Black were the wings of the serpent whose talons were known to cut armor.
Swift was Sir Travis, his shield, unyielding as sure as his galloping charger.  
Fields of wheat were blown back from the impact of sword ringing notes against claw.
Songs sung by creatures of flight were silenced amidst the screaming and brew ha.
A dust hurricane strained to obscure the view from the townspeople watching outside.
The noise and the power unleashed from both sides ensured there was not a dry eye.
And from the cacophony a silhouette formed and a figure emerged from the ashes.
Triumphant, our savior, his sword raised, there was that brave Knight called Sir Travis.
And the villagers cheered and the trumpets sang tributes of many  peaceful times to come.
And tales were told of Sir Travis' Dragon and passed down from the old to the young. 
-Yet, that night, Travis was not tired one bit, and he had no intention of sleeping.
He desired more than blankets and covers, and the promises his sheets lay keeping.
but to his bed he returned, as the candlelight burned; he lay down and closed his eyes,
As the moon smiled in phase, he again became someone, somewhere far away.. 
He was Sir Travis.
Sir Travis, the Knight.
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