Sir Gawain

With the might of nine men And with his head full of red hair His brusque fashion and his acumen He carved his place at the King's fair There was only one other To whom he looked with honor Always by his side, facing danger Their rhythm together was a marvel The fate's fickle motions Caused an abrupt end to their notions Power of friendship wasn't able To prevent the tragedy's closure Braying like an injured animal He searched his injury's satisfaction Facing his brothers' annihilator He continued relentlessly even in failure