Author: Michael Holys

Once boys were young and had naught but fun
trained and done learned all that they could
Two young men would then step forth brethren
And join in the ranks of Knighthood.
One west one East and still friends, at least
until a dark cloud fell over their land
And peace then ceased as men turned to beasts
And one would die by his own brothers hand
These two friends lives they now divide
as each side then took up arms
And oath one friend was sworn to defend
While one burned down the villagers farms
With the country at war it was not long before
They were sure the big battle had come
The lines were drawn and at the brink of dawn
Came the trumpeting horns and war drums
Soon the battle enraged with both sides engaged
It was staged to become a tie
Rather than be caged both knight and page
Resolved they’d both rather die.
In a field of blood and bone they stood alone
There shown a gruesome scene
Old friends that hadn’t known that when they’d grown
They’re blade own a bloodied sheen
During a clash of swords a dash upwards
Straight towards the avenger guard
It was not a slash but words of trash absurd
that brought these two champions forward…
One said “Old friend, prepare to defend!”
A thrust sword to fend him away
“Your wounds won’t mend to that i’ll surely attend”
“I shall render your entrails astray!”
And flurried parried sparks of blades and blocks that hit their marks
and bad remarks that hit their softest vein
As it grew dark a blades deadly arc
upon its mark drew forth mortal pain.
And to his dying friend his knight friend said
“we’ve done, all that we could”
He said “My friend, this is the end”
“Of the long lost age of Knighthood”.

This man slowly marches among men
And they march in single file
He is greeted by his homeland in great cheers
But he is cheered only for what hes defiled
They love him because he bore the mark of their nation
Because he is part of the warriors creed
But as he is cheered by his comrades, he sighs
He is loved for making people bleed
There was ceremony and he was given a medal
for being a hero so brave
And he is applauded and respected but he wondered
Where the medals are for his friends in graves
And as he stood at attention with the men in his division
He tried to look proud and play his part in the charade
And he is pelted with glory and honor for being savage
As he stands in the ranks of the Grim Parade.