It's a cold Fall October night.
Firestones clash and ignite.
The poet met the poet Knight.
Fires sparked in skies bright.
Was humble, as could be, it was a new beginning.
The future shown by the Knight to be following.
Leaving fears behind fiercely fighting
Entered the battle of poetry, art and writing.
There's no shame dying on the battlefield.
Pierced by swords, daggers and Crowbills.
Yet in this contest, there is no stealing.
Knights win more hearts than those Kings crowning.
Comments