An armored Knight galloped on a horse so fine,
A white horse: that milky, pale mare,
And the Knight, pure and refined,
He portrayed heroism, indeed.
Dark eyes watched enemies at abroad horizons,
Surveyed lands: lush, green grasslands,
Emitting a bright sword, so pious,
Its appearance was crimson-free.
His cape draped over the back of his mare,
A strong shield: a firm, polished helmet,
Those were all attributes he handled with care.
He had a character that was careful and clean.
His heart was saddened, though,
From an attempt, an awful, fatal attempt,
That a Princess had sworn by, she chose
To be bound by a deadly creed.
Dragon was fierce; he cared for no one,
Angry feelings: angry, livid rage,
He had a personality feared by everyone.
This Princess was a prisoner of his greed.
She had what he wanted: she had what he needed,
Her beautiful heart: a kind and gentle heart,
Yet timidity, her one weakness,
She was Dragon’s key.
The door to life, everlasting riches,
Promised to those who contained kind hearts,
He planned on killing her, hence,
To obtain what he needed.
Dragon had forced the Princess to surrender
Her life: Her precious and wholesome life.
So that he could be the one to live on forever.
He didn’t once take heed.
The Knight on the horse, that milky, pale mare,
Was going to tell Dragon what he should hear.
So he galloped on his horse, that milky, pale mare,
Day by day, battling both cold and heat.
He raced across plains, dashed through valleys,
The horse was always weary, but he was always brave,
Night after night for strength he prayed,
Dear Father, I don’t want to be too late.
As the Knight arrived closer, every step at a time,
Dragon pined for that lovely immortality.
He laughed and mocked, but the Princess never whined;
She tried holding onto her faith.
Dragon hated waiting, so he would linger no more!
Her heart he would take, that precious, pure heart,
From her, so he could live forevermore.
There would be no more wait.
The Knight galloped on, so fast and never stalling,
When envisioning death, of his beautiful Princess,
How could he even think about stalling?
No, it couldn’t be too late!
Dragon leered; he moved his claw across her skin.
The cackle was there, that crude, blunt cackling.
He began by pinning his claw to her chin,
And he knew then, that her skin soon wouldn’t be crimson-free.
As he neared her chest with his sharp weapon,
A noise, an approaching, tedious noise,
Like the prancing of hooves, it startled Dragon,
And he turned to look and see.
“Who is he?” Dragon sneered.
As he saw a bright and shining Knight.
He was mounted on horse, a milky, pale mare,
It was like this Knight was cloud sailing.
“I am a knight,” he replied, “and this is my bride.”
“You think you can take her away?”
“Snatch her from my side?”
His hands were bruised, from much laboring.
Even so, his bravery increased,
And he unsheathed a sword, so pious,
He dismounted his horse, and neared
The Dragon, who was glaring.
“You can’t take what’s mine away,”
“You’re fate still remains the same, Dragon.”
“Even if you take my bride away,”
“You are still dying.”
“Steal a heart, but you’ll remain in death,”
“Even if that heart’s full of kindness.”
“Change your own heart, and you’ll be free,”
“Life will be yours, and immortality.”
Dragon refused to listen, and the Knight shook his head.
The Princess would be set free, but Dragon’s fate was death.
The Knight cast his sword forward, a tear slipping, and falling,
He was hoping Dragon would change his mind.
But because of his stubbornness,
His foolish, stupid stubbornness,
Dragon would reap what he sowed.
His own vileness would heap and teem.
It would become millions of times worse,
Than it was before: all the evil he had boasted,
Would bounce back, and be his curse,
Dragon would gnash his teeth.
So it was done, the Knight pierced him:
Dragon cried in pain, a loud and mournful cry,
And he knew then, there would be no one to save him.
The knight blade was not crimson-free.
The burning fire he had treated others to,
That seething, potent pain they felt,
Was now engulfing Dragon, who,
Had the choice to surrender and yield.
The Knight bent down, and checked his bride,
To see if she was still humble.
He had saved her from death, and the Dragon’s pride,
Her heart, he had tried to steal.