When the last knight left
Now a knight without a horse,
And his sword without a cause.
With the falling of his kind,
Shall there be truth, he can find?
With head slumped from all the pain,
Memories lost, no picture frame.
As he stood upon the mound,
With no fragments to be found.
Watching his world as it falls,
He screams out, as if he calls
For the pieces of his life,
Finding none without due strife.
This warrior full of war,
No sky left in which to soar.
He then sat beneath a tree,
Hoping death would set him free.
(7 syllables per line) (memories counted as 2)
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