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
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