King Arthur There is a story Often told By natives of the Shire Of Wessex, In the corner Nearest towards Dover. There was a man Who lived there well. Who knew of All sorts fascinating Fascets of his world. There is a story He often told Of an unnatural adventure. I have heard this often From he And those he loved. I pray that my Version shall not put his To shame. But rather Glorify each world He would have said Had he not have passed To the Great Creator. He would start Each story with, A sigh. Then he would Glance about the room, Taking in all present And all those not. He would calmly fold His hands Upon his lap And begin, “I was given The job of a lifetime But also a chance Of fate.” One horrid day, I was given A letter Sent to the mayor of Dover. It contained Everything To stop the sentence Of death For a man Who was innocent.” My roan, My red, red roan, Moved beneath me As we traveled To the town of Dover. We came upon The crest of a hill Where a sign sat. ‘To the left,’ it read. ‘Dover. To the right, Adventure.’” Oh- How adventure beckoned. How I could have spared A man’s life But I saw adventure Fortune, Fame, Glory!” Without a motion My roan chose the right Almost as though She had read my mind. We traversed for hours Through the darkest Of death and forest Of the night. Until…” By the time This point came All were ready Even if they knew What was to happen next. All that could be heard Were rapid inhalations And excited murmurs.” All would turn To the man Expecting, Knowing the outcome, Yet, Loving the adventure. He would Close his deep eyes And continue his trek… “The night Was dark as death. Not a soul could be seen Neither myself Nor my roan. Until she lead me Into a clearing In which There was an eerie Daytime glow.” Daylight filtered through The trees. The melancholy light Cast its mournful glow Upon the ground, Myself And the roan, The red, red roan.” She kept along her trek, Almost as though She was born for this sole purpose. She traversed until I could see what she had For so long.” A man Sat atop the darkest Of all black horses. Death would Have been brighter Then that steed.” ‘Good day to You, Good sir,’ I called Out to the figure. ‘For hours Have I traveled And I have not seen Any person By the likes of you Or by the likes of any!’” The man Turned to me With a look of Utmost anger And quickly Drew his finger to his lips So as to stop My incessant Interruptions Of the still And silent air.” He quietly Turned his head Back towards the sky. ‘Good sir, Perhaps you would Like to ride with me For some time. I would enjoy company On my travels!’ I called.” He turned to me With utmost Hatred And drawing his fingers to His lips Quickly silenced me. He looked up To the sky.” ‘Good day To you then Sir. Thank you For your time I hope That when the morrow comes I shall meet with you again.’ To him, I turned And tipped my hat As a gesture Of gracious parting.” At this he turned And with no word spoken Drew his finger up But away from his lips. He crooked it Like the shepherd’s missing tool. Come, It called. Follow me, I can show you to your adventure.” Then with no more words The dark steed Turned and galloped Off into The forest and the night. With instinct The roan, She followed, Close behind His heels. They followed The pursuer And the pursued.” Suddenly The man stopped His horse Abruptly. The roan, In attempts to throw me, Stopped as steadfast As she could.” I looked about And saw Nothing more Then a rocky ledge And menacing trees. The ledge Was carved With the very face of death. The two boulders Peered down upon me And my visitor. The mouth, Inviting as it was, Fell in the shape of A deep and foreboding cave.” The man quickly Unseated from his horse. Sliding off he Flew into the cave Without expecting me To follow.” Awed by this I came upon a realization I could chose To do nothing Or to follow Into the Unknown Into adventure The adventure I had sought at My journey’s beginning.” I followed On light feet I crept. Lower, Lower, Lower, Into the darkness And the void.” I heard his footsteps Echoing upon the walls. They were stone Dark Slate Almost Black. Upon them Were etched Scenes from battles past. Ho, Only if I could Have served In my queen’s army!” Deeper still, I forced myself in the cave. Tempted by the promise Of something greater then I Given by that man Who had disappeared from my view.” ‘Still are you here? Good sir? Where be you? I can cannot see For it is dark And foreboding! I cannot see! Where are you?’ I called into the darkness.” I heard no noise But something pushed me on. He was there Somewhere I could feel him in my soul. Pushing me Further on. ‘Trek on,’ His image said. The first words I am sure He has ever spoken.” And still Down the stairs I trekked. Somewhere He had to be. Had he doubled back I would have seen him. I would have felt him In the darkness.” I turned back to see Where I had come from. There was nothing But darkness No light, Nor air, Nor life.” I turned To bolt back To life. To the life I had known To the man who’s service I was in. I fled Fast as fast can be But upon My upward journey My foot beneath me slipped And downward I fell…” Turning Over, Over, Over, The world span. The blackness Swam With a mixture of tiny stars From the sky. The walls blended together into nothing.” There he stood, Kicking me where I lay fallen. There was light, But all was distorted. It danced before My eyes. Nothing was there. Or was there…” He helped me To stand. I held my head And looked about. There in all Its glory was A torch. The first light To be worshipped By me. But something else Lay there Near my feet.” Down, Down, Down, Looked I. And at my feet Rested a knight. Clad all in armor, With his war shield Near his arm. Across his breast lay his Sword. Ready for the Ultimate battle.” I looked about the room. There were others, Just like him, Ready for war. Yet, Sleeping as those Who had drunk Too much of their master’s mead.” All the knights slept, Heads pointed Towards the center Where upon a golden throne Slept a man Whose snow white hair Flowed down his purple robe. Upon the top of his head Sat a crown, Encrusted with the work Of the ages. Dark sapphires Emeralds And rubies Glistened in the dying torch light.” ‘How would I love to stay And serve the king,’ I sighed Almost to myself. The man Heard my words And shook his head. He pulled me towards Dark entrance.” But Being I, I tripped and fell into What appeared to be A rather large bell. The clangor exploded Loud enough to wake All of London, From here in Dover.” But none stirred Except for the knight Nearest to me. He rose from his Slumber. Looked about the room Turned to me And asked, ‘Is it time yet? Has Mordred returned For his final Battle against his father Our noble King, Arthur?’” The man shook his head. ‘Nay, good knight The final battle is not here yet. For we are still at peace. However By the morrow comes We shall meet again To fight against The hated And to protect The innocent Such as he.’” With this the knight Turned away from us And returned to his Death-sleep, All the while Playing the songs of sweet slumber.” The man Took my arm Harsher still. Firm in his grip He dragged me back To the darkness Back to the entrance. ‘Please, Please, Please Let me stay Good sir. You are kind, You are great. I will make the perfect knight Gallant and chivalrous!’ My pleas Fell upon the deafest of ears.” To the entrance We flew In the quickest of time. All the while Tears of mourning Fled my eyes. For I knew Never could I return To this place. Never could I see The King of Britain. Forever was I commoner! Never a knight Or even a lowly page!” ‘Oh, Woe unto me,’ I cried As he thrust me upon the ground. ‘I will never be great Forever Shall I be Just a man!’” The man Turned to me With the coldest of eyes. ‘Never return Or you shall be The first enemy to Meet the sword of the knights.’ With nothing more He returned to his Horse And fled Into the darkness Of the forest and the night.” I mourned the loss Of my happiness For I could never Be who I truly wanted to be. Yet, I returned to my roan. I tried to save the man. But alas- Even for him I arrived too late! With heavy heart I returned Here. Never to leave Again For fear of Meeting the knights’ Deadly sword. Still I wish I could be one of them. But I know I will never be Who I truly know I am.” With this, The man would often Finish, Sit back, Draw his pipe To his lips And shut his eyes. For his life Was almost over And his adventure of a day Had been the adventure Of a lifetime. Excited murmurs Would Erupt through The crowd. And how often I would sit And listen to Their chirping. The would wonder If he had told A story of adventure Or a story of a lie. As the time Would near The darkest hour of the night. I would gather My things And take my leave. Except this time There was something Different. The moon hung And cast its light As though it were The brightest hour of the day. The ebony I had taken From someone nearest To the town Was a wild and untamed animal. I was taking him To London But he chose to do something Quiet different. At the break in the road When one leads to London And the other to the west of the isle. He bolted Faster then Any horse of This Earth Could run. He took Me and Flew Into the woods. He knew His destination. Yet, It was Unknownst to me. Deeper, Deeper, Deeper, He ran Into the woods. My face Was scraped With the arms Of the trees. Beaten Bruised Bloody Pain ripped through the Flesh upon my face. My hat Flew To some other Things possession. Wild went My hair. Whipped in all Directions As the trees Ran their Fingers through my hair. “Woe! Graceful steed! Stop! I beg of you! Please Leave me off Then continue On your course. In London I have an Appointment. It is important, Dear and There I need To be By the morning time!!!” I screamed As the horse Ran Into a clearing. He halted And I was thrown Over Over Over As I tumbled To the earth And smashed With A deafening noise. Stunned and seeing All the stars Within the sky Dance before My eyes. I slowly Rose up to my knees. Before I noticed my vision There was something Other then The fallen stars. A man stood there. He looked down To me and Extended his hand. Not a word Was spoken. He went to the steed And they became one. To me He raised his Hat In a beckon, And they raced into the woods.
Copyright © 2001 Ashley Burdett |