Very secured and locked away,
are dreams of when I was small.
It seems like only yesterday,
when a knight would answer the call.
A magical knoll, a mystical hole,
could determine good from bad.
The choice was left to every soul,
to defend what he rightfully had.
Damsels fair, with golden hair,
would need rescuing at one time or other.
Huge white horse and sword of course,
rewards, were kisses that smother.
The lady would give a scarf to her man,
as a sign of fidelity and love.
Choose to fight as hard as he can,
or meet his Maker above.
Battles were lost but many were won,
every sacred moment was new.
Even or odd, it mattered to none,
there was always something to do.
Tip of a spear would pierce the skin,
and a scream would shatter the night.
Through open window, the sun would shine in,
and memories were lost in the light.
