The knight at Arms-2

I decided to torture the poor knight more.........no respite for the poor chap.


A season ago it was but an arid desert
Housing bruised bodies and tired souls.
A season later, it all turned pleasant
With flowering trees and singing birds.

The holocausts of the malicious past
Lay deep burried and long forgotten.
But the knight alone lay nonchalant
Of a new start and path to be trodden.

With the capricious summer breeze.
He wandered frantically in the woods
He startled at his very own voice
Lost account of days and who he was.

Led by the cool summer breeeze
He slowly ambled to the ancient lake.
Where he met a remotely familar figure
And he wondered if it was real or fake.