Within his hand he held that small key

that could guide him to his destiny!

A medium had brought him to this spot

this could be his one and only shot.

Fate awaited him the young man knew

as that excitement quickly grew!


Given a map by a man he was guided to

he knew this he would see through.

Now at a desk in this second-hand shop

that had a badly scratched top.

Informed it had a secret compartment

with a letter written on parchment.


He now had an idea for what he was searching

the adventure would now begin!

The words written in a very ancient dialect

something else for him to reflect.

As he stood pondering who could read it

failure this he would not admit!


The shop owner kindly asked if he could assist

the question he could not resist.

To enquire  if he could read this strange text

the answer yes no longer perplexed.

Written it seemed many centuries before

listening wanting to know more.


His name mentioned a descendant of a knight

and hidden treasure out of sight!

Gold diamonds and a precious sacred cross

in battle his life was a great loss!

Now the next stage a dangerous journey abroad

to seek out this secret priceless hoard!


How could he find the money to finance this trip

could this be the first major slip?

Then he glanced upon some old coins inside

now I am really on my way he cried!

Would he find his destiny at the journey’s end

on the obstacles he faced it would depend!


Into the hostile world he happily ventured!


The Foureyed Poet.


Published in: on 15/05/2012 at 02:29  Leave a Comment  
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The Church

The knight had been wounded in the ambush

but for his armour would be dead!

His horse had escaped now he was on foot

injuring his leg when he fell.

Moving with stealth that sanctuary to seek

before becoming too weak!


The four other knights had been cruelly killed

anger drove him forward.

He had remembered a church in the vicinity

this place would give him safety.

This is what he prayed as exhaustion took its toll

then voices halted his stroll!


Two men sat huddled talking around a newly lit fire

his horse tethered with their own.

He could see their weapons on the ground at hand

catching them off guard his aim.

Straining to get a much better view now realised

two of the marauders he analysed!


Beyond this scene he could vaguely make it out

his one obsession the church!

In pain and exhausted getting home his aim

to his own beautiful damsel.

Whom he had left far too many years before

they’d be together again he swore.


With his light weight armour he inched forward

with his will and strength.

Both were in deep conversation when he struck

skilfully cutting them down.

Headless corpses now lay amongst the trees

smell of death on the breeze!


Filled with remorse now onward to the church

hoping he could find rest.

Fighting the crusades surely he’d done gods will

all he wanted was sanctuary!

As he reached the gates jaded he blacked out

tired of war there was no doubt.


Opening his eyes knowing god had smiled on him

the church had not been taken.

Priests hovered with concern as his body healed

now he was certain in his mind.

Home his next destination word had been sent

satisfied for him there’d be no lament.


The Foureyed Poet.

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How had he found himself in this dungeon

a knight thrown in here.

Sent by his king on his first secret mission.

true he was dressed as a peasant.

Harshly he’d been treated a new experience

but not regretting being sent.


This awful place never inside one before

an eye opener for him.

Here he couldn’t stay had to escape

report back to the king.

Noticed a sharp piece of wood at hand

shouting out a demand!


The jailer angrily came to the cell door

he banged on the grill!

In a temper the snarling man entered

within seconds he was dead!

Silently falling on to the dank stone

the knight left alone!


Few humans scurried about in passageways

of the castles lower depths.

Coming upon a sentry post a guard stood

soon his life had expired.

Putting on the uniform he was going home

with a sword he would roam!


Very lax security the knight slowly walked

into the alien countryside.

Luckily not challenged he saw a lone soldier

getting off of his horse.

Never feeling the blow now homeward bound

with the information found!


Indeed the Barron was a traitor to his king

the knight an army would bring!


The Foureyed Poet.

Published in: on 27/02/2012 at 13:38  Leave a Comment  
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Dark Knight

Shimmering on that bright yet unspoilt sunny morn

the Dark Knights armour created a shadow.

Standing like a giant before his loyal army

six horses approached upon their backs.

Rode six  more knights warriors full of pride

an ancient elite force were now by his side.


A vast enemy camp lay below them in the early mist

tension was high dark clouds filled the sky.

Fighting for months the force was now cornered

thinking of his Lady Claire whom he had saved.

From the clutches of the Barron who had taken her

his nerves building up how the anger did stir.


Mounting his steed the Dark knight drew his sword

Remembering his Lady as the seven rode forward.

Joining them the rest of the mounted soldiers

followed by his trusty band of loyal men.

In unison silently they headed into the fight

lead by this proud and brave Dark Knight.


As the enemy army below awoke to this new day

unaware of what was about to befall the camp.

An irritated Barron came out from of his stately tent

with a sense of impending danger in the air.

Weary of the never ending drive for power

not even he knew of his own final hour.


The Dark Knight had no idea his enemy had lived

his sword hadn’t pierced the Barron’s chain mail.

Almost laughing thinking how he had cheated death

the scar on his upper arm still giving him pain.

He knew that the final battle would soon begin

wanting more victims blood upon his skin.


Reflections were short lived as the lookouts yelled

a massive army was very close at hand.

Coming towards him the Dark Knight charged

head long into the camp slashing and thrusting.

A complete surprise to the sleepy enemy force

no time to repel as history took its course.


The bloody onslaught raged on through the day

as heavy rain began to form a pit from the depths.

As the knights numbers began to dwindle.

a lone figure stood there in the thick mud

The Dark knight looked in a disbelieving stare

only one would walk away alive from there.


The eye contact was short as The Dark Knight

with no mercy made sure his foe died.

Dispatching in one thrust The Barron’s head

this time he knew the monster was really dead.


The Foureyed Poet.

Published in: on 24/09/2008 at 15:30  Comments (1)  
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