Post by reasonrhymer on Mar 12, 2009 22:42:28 GMT -8
Okay, so here goes, this is a different type work for me, sort of an experiment. It is likely way to long. I am still working on it and have not worked out all the bugs. It’s an old piece that I pick up and work on now and then.
I am hoping “not” for a critique at this point. What I would like is, if you can tell me what this story is about and what message comes through.
If you can make it through to the end of this long piece (if it‘s not too boring), let me know what you get out of the “communication,” if anything, I would appreciate it.
One Knights Dream
Through the quest of life,
Through your rest of night,
your Knight visits without blame,
his steeds hoof beats thunder in the silence,
lightning calls out your name.
Your heart pleas for the purging.
The mind turns away from what is calling,
Your sleep-- your attempted stalling.
The force of his blade, sharp and true
slices through silence,
Like a chilling breeze,
slicing though to the bone.
On your coldest of days.
A memory bleeds alive;
a code, a holly quest,
visions of valor, loyalty,
armor shielding all that is true,
a promise to the brothers in arms.
All in a Knights rest,
all in a nights test.
Shaking yourself out of this unpleasant dream.
Waking to the start of your workday,
it’s a Monday in the year 2009.
Going through your day,
this dream of the night before haunts you,
An apathy of mind, thinking;
"It’s just a poem, a song, a childhood fable."
The drink at days end,
hopes for further numbing of the mind,
A desperate wish to forget--
the lightning that calls out your name.
You drink daily the duties of serfs,
In your attempted busyness, you drink in vain.
This daily toast, a prayer to the maker
that this calling will stop and so end your pain.
Drunken silence once again falls
upon the darkness of mind.
You fall in to your fitful dream
A thin ray of light shines through,
a cloudy night, muffles your scream.
Your site turns to the top of a hill,
a shadow of a shining sword raised
high above it’s mount draws you in.
The knight just sits there in the distance,
Waiting, waiting for you to do battle today,
But sleep still overcomes his prey.
Resting in your bed, head upon your pillow,
it starts again, the thundering hoof beats,
the knight comes down the hill and drawls nearer,
lightning in his calling strikes deep within.
You try to run but at his feet, you fall in fear.
He looks deep within you with piercing eyes,
he has not come to slay you,
but remind you of your place on high--
among the gallant and the sovereign,
of a long lost Knighthood.
You tell him; "you must be mistaken,"
"you got the wrong guy!"
He looks at you and smiles,
growls a deep laugh,
and continues to laugh.
He takes you by the hand,
with his armored glove.
A full colored battlefield emerges;
green grasses filled with freshly spilled blood.
You find yourself on your own steed now,
His nostrils flaring, heated breath steaming out.
You wear the armored glove you held moments ago.
You become the Knight that called your name,
Now fully clad in body armor,
you scream out an unearthly batty cry.
A fallen knight lay in front of you
slain by your enemy,
he looks up at you with piercing eyes,
familiar but different form the eyes that brought you here,
but he growls a similar deep laugh of a friend,
He calls upon you "brother fight on!"
Two Knights taking on
seventy-five marauders to save a village of farmers.
All but a few of the heathen still stand.
Three in front and three to each side.
You wheel to the right,
with two mighty swings of your sword,
three men fall.
In front, three still come forward,
you gallop and with a crushing blow to the first,
his body falls lifeless to the dirt below.
The other two step back,
you leap your steed forward,
two fall, cut with two more deathly swings.
The last three to the left turn their backs to run,
you race your horse at full speed,
cutting them off and face them.
They die like the others,
swiftly and without remorse.
Racing back to the fallen Knight,
he is sill lying there, still smiling.
The tears you can’t hold back,
in mystery-- you wonder why.
You say to your brother in arms,
“why did you bring me here?”
He speaks to you and says,
“you have been stuck hear for a very long time,
I did not bring you back,”
But, your own "code" beckoned your return.
I can tell you why you forget,
why you no longer wear your arms,
why you curse your code.
The answered lies here with me, "my death."
In his dying breath he speaks,
"It was your wish to fight these,
seventy-five heathens who lie here today,
In my own weakness, I broke the code,
tempting you to turn away from what I feared
was sudden death for both of us.
I would have chose to turn my back
on the farming village, to fight another day.
Thus, I broke the code!
You, you most honorable gallant knight,
you chose for us to fight,
and fight you did, to victory.
Upon leaving this field valor,
you chose to blame yourself forever,
for your brother’s falling, "me."
You left this field, your field of honor,
you cursed your own holy code,
you cursed your word to find the Grail within.
You dwelled in the pity of me, your fallen brother.
While you wept, you decreed a new promise,
"to give up in the gallant quest as it was worthless."
You chose to live As a sleeping run-of-the-mill human--
a treacherous and treasonous lot, indeed.”
As his breath slowed to a stop,
you took his armored glove in yours.
In an instance you are peering down from a hill,
holding high your sword of valor.
A thin ray of light shines through,
a cloudy night muffles your scream.
At the bottom of the hill your sight turns,
You see yourself lying in bed, head upon your pillow.
You gallop forward on your steed,
the thundering sound of the hoof beats begin,
lightening in your voice calling out your own name,
you charge the steed forward screaming,
Wake-up! Wake-up! Wake-up!
You dismount,
You kneel beside yourself,
slowly pulling your sword,
you tap the gleaming metal
lightly on the both sides of your sleeping shoulders,
whispering in your own ear,
“I solemnly swear and vow, to follow this Code:
With all my life and lives to come,
I pledge;
to champion for right and good,
to fight against the forces of evil,
to be true and seek that which is true,
to have courage in the face of all evil,
to seek justice for the one and the all,
to seek the Grail within myself forever.”
With a slight pause, you lightly tap the blade on your head
And proclaim "Be thou a good Knight”
Reaching with your armored glove
to hold your own naked hand,
your sleeping mind fights the sentencing,
the body quivers and shakes,
your heart bleeds of the purging.
Opening your sleepy eyes, you see your reflection,
Your Knight In Shining Armor, YOU!
Awakening from lifetimes of slumber.
Knighted anew,
In one nights dream,
In “One Knight’s Dream.”
rr
...
I am hoping “not” for a critique at this point. What I would like is, if you can tell me what this story is about and what message comes through.
If you can make it through to the end of this long piece (if it‘s not too boring), let me know what you get out of the “communication,” if anything, I would appreciate it.
One Knights Dream
Through the quest of life,
Through your rest of night,
your Knight visits without blame,
his steeds hoof beats thunder in the silence,
lightning calls out your name.
Your heart pleas for the purging.
The mind turns away from what is calling,
Your sleep-- your attempted stalling.
The force of his blade, sharp and true
slices through silence,
Like a chilling breeze,
slicing though to the bone.
On your coldest of days.
A memory bleeds alive;
a code, a holly quest,
visions of valor, loyalty,
armor shielding all that is true,
a promise to the brothers in arms.
All in a Knights rest,
all in a nights test.
Shaking yourself out of this unpleasant dream.
Waking to the start of your workday,
it’s a Monday in the year 2009.
Going through your day,
this dream of the night before haunts you,
An apathy of mind, thinking;
"It’s just a poem, a song, a childhood fable."
The drink at days end,
hopes for further numbing of the mind,
A desperate wish to forget--
the lightning that calls out your name.
You drink daily the duties of serfs,
In your attempted busyness, you drink in vain.
This daily toast, a prayer to the maker
that this calling will stop and so end your pain.
Drunken silence once again falls
upon the darkness of mind.
You fall in to your fitful dream
A thin ray of light shines through,
a cloudy night, muffles your scream.
Your site turns to the top of a hill,
a shadow of a shining sword raised
high above it’s mount draws you in.
The knight just sits there in the distance,
Waiting, waiting for you to do battle today,
But sleep still overcomes his prey.
Resting in your bed, head upon your pillow,
it starts again, the thundering hoof beats,
the knight comes down the hill and drawls nearer,
lightning in his calling strikes deep within.
You try to run but at his feet, you fall in fear.
He looks deep within you with piercing eyes,
he has not come to slay you,
but remind you of your place on high--
among the gallant and the sovereign,
of a long lost Knighthood.
You tell him; "you must be mistaken,"
"you got the wrong guy!"
He looks at you and smiles,
growls a deep laugh,
and continues to laugh.
He takes you by the hand,
with his armored glove.
A full colored battlefield emerges;
green grasses filled with freshly spilled blood.
You find yourself on your own steed now,
His nostrils flaring, heated breath steaming out.
You wear the armored glove you held moments ago.
You become the Knight that called your name,
Now fully clad in body armor,
you scream out an unearthly batty cry.
A fallen knight lay in front of you
slain by your enemy,
he looks up at you with piercing eyes,
familiar but different form the eyes that brought you here,
but he growls a similar deep laugh of a friend,
He calls upon you "brother fight on!"
Two Knights taking on
seventy-five marauders to save a village of farmers.
All but a few of the heathen still stand.
Three in front and three to each side.
You wheel to the right,
with two mighty swings of your sword,
three men fall.
In front, three still come forward,
you gallop and with a crushing blow to the first,
his body falls lifeless to the dirt below.
The other two step back,
you leap your steed forward,
two fall, cut with two more deathly swings.
The last three to the left turn their backs to run,
you race your horse at full speed,
cutting them off and face them.
They die like the others,
swiftly and without remorse.
Racing back to the fallen Knight,
he is sill lying there, still smiling.
The tears you can’t hold back,
in mystery-- you wonder why.
You say to your brother in arms,
“why did you bring me here?”
He speaks to you and says,
“you have been stuck hear for a very long time,
I did not bring you back,”
But, your own "code" beckoned your return.
I can tell you why you forget,
why you no longer wear your arms,
why you curse your code.
The answered lies here with me, "my death."
In his dying breath he speaks,
"It was your wish to fight these,
seventy-five heathens who lie here today,
In my own weakness, I broke the code,
tempting you to turn away from what I feared
was sudden death for both of us.
I would have chose to turn my back
on the farming village, to fight another day.
Thus, I broke the code!
You, you most honorable gallant knight,
you chose for us to fight,
and fight you did, to victory.
Upon leaving this field valor,
you chose to blame yourself forever,
for your brother’s falling, "me."
You left this field, your field of honor,
you cursed your own holy code,
you cursed your word to find the Grail within.
You dwelled in the pity of me, your fallen brother.
While you wept, you decreed a new promise,
"to give up in the gallant quest as it was worthless."
You chose to live As a sleeping run-of-the-mill human--
a treacherous and treasonous lot, indeed.”
As his breath slowed to a stop,
you took his armored glove in yours.
In an instance you are peering down from a hill,
holding high your sword of valor.
A thin ray of light shines through,
a cloudy night muffles your scream.
At the bottom of the hill your sight turns,
You see yourself lying in bed, head upon your pillow.
You gallop forward on your steed,
the thundering sound of the hoof beats begin,
lightening in your voice calling out your own name,
you charge the steed forward screaming,
Wake-up! Wake-up! Wake-up!
You dismount,
You kneel beside yourself,
slowly pulling your sword,
you tap the gleaming metal
lightly on the both sides of your sleeping shoulders,
whispering in your own ear,
“I solemnly swear and vow, to follow this Code:
With all my life and lives to come,
I pledge;
to champion for right and good,
to fight against the forces of evil,
to be true and seek that which is true,
to have courage in the face of all evil,
to seek justice for the one and the all,
to seek the Grail within myself forever.”
With a slight pause, you lightly tap the blade on your head
And proclaim "Be thou a good Knight”
Reaching with your armored glove
to hold your own naked hand,
your sleeping mind fights the sentencing,
the body quivers and shakes,
your heart bleeds of the purging.
Opening your sleepy eyes, you see your reflection,
Your Knight In Shining Armor, YOU!
Awakening from lifetimes of slumber.
Knighted anew,
In one nights dream,
In “One Knight’s Dream.”
rr
...
