The Holy Knight

The holy knight, his allies and the elf,
They ran up the stairs chased by dancing fire,
Through the deep and in the dark,
Fear did not abide them.

To kill the evil,
To end the war,
They had to help save them all,
The women, the children, the men.

They reached the evil and charged the man,
Only then did he disappear,
Then when he did return the fire flew from his hand,
Burning down two of five, they had not a moment to withstand.

The others ran,
The knight with the fallen under his arms,
With his almighty strength he would not leave his good friends behind,
Dead or alive he loved them so much, they were always so kind.

Behind echoed laughter so menacing and cold,
Tears ran down the knight’s cheeks,
Anger and sadness filled him and went uncontrolled,
A pain in his heart, this was not how the story should’ve been told.

He gently put them down,
Healing his wounds and moping his brow,
He called to the others, they all silently nodded,
They had to kill the wizard, yet they didn’t know how.

They returned to the tower, they returned to the stairs,
When they got to the top, the knight screamed out with hatred,
He charged at the shocked man, his great-sword in hand,
The knight slashed at his arms, the salty taste of sadness upon his lips.

Then with one great blow,
The holy knight cut off the wizard’s head,
Then silently regarded his enemy now dead,
He stood there in his armour, with his shield, sword and bow.

Not sure what to say, not sure what to do.
He turned to the others, who also had tears to shed,
Then away they walked,
Nothing was said.

They slowly went down the dark stairs,
The holy knight, the elf and the rogue,
Silently sobbing, filled with relief,
Yet over ridden with a sick grief.

He picked up his comrades,
Then took them to camp,
For the war was now over, the war was now won,
Later that night he dreamt of his allies and all they had done.