The knight at arms

Inspired by my favourite poet John Keats's "La Belle Dame Sans Merci", my first ever trash in English. Trash breads more trash and hence the subsequent trash......





Its all over, ruined and burnt,
Here is he, bruised and hurt;
From the grey winter skies to the great oak trees,
Everything around him said, "Its all over knight at arms".

Numb with pain, he sees nothing, nor hears anything,
All he longs for are the bright blue skies and the birds singing;
As the sting of the gusty cold wind takes over,
Reality sinks in and he starts looking for cover.

With nothing but the great white ocean in sight,
He hovers into the darkness of the winter night;
With all but one thought in his mind, "The loss was not merely physical,
But it was that of a part of my soul".