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Knight of the night,
Fair in every way was he, his might unmatched and known to be,
as the only knight for the king to ever see,
oh knight of the knight, when the hour came,
mounted his trusted steed,
began a quest in search of the key,
unknown to others but himself,

Oblivious of the dark pitch night,
Knight of the night braved the bite of the of the deadly cold night,
and the mockery of the gazing moon above his head,
and when fatigue beckoned,
knight of the night had only to accede,

Laying his head on the grass,
along with his shield and sword of brass,
looked at his scared body,
each having a story to tell,

Stories that told of how he saved his king,
the king to whom he'd sworn his loyalty,
the loyalty that bound him to his king
and from His Majesty the King he did receive,
fame and fortune, and above all a name,

At that moment,
to his horror,
realized that the priceless key,
had been in the hands of the one he served,


He had all along been a slave,
a slave who had everything yet had nothing,
the nothing that had existed the same day,
he bowed before the king

He gazed hard at his sword,
the same sword that had served his king,
shielding him from his premature demise, the sword that had given him,
all forms of gratifications known to men,
that would be the same sword that would drink his own blood,
the blood of the knight of the night...

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