The Pale Knight of Liberty
Long had rode the Knight, Forever strong; never weak. Saddles and bridles shining bright, On a horse that every prince would seek. Her black armour glistening in sunlight, Carried by the epitome of lust - The dark horse, the epicentre of fright, So loved, when hated be it must! Whenever the rider rode past, Forests or villages or seas; Her curse held her mark, All life hid in the following breeze. But when she finally arrived, And called out his name, 'It cannot be death', he surmised - Hallucinations should take the blame Then again a whisper coarse, He looked around in fret; A majestic lady on her horse - How could such beauty be death? 'But it is not time!' 'There's too much left' he said What is work; what is time? All of life awaits death. Not your actions not your words, Would matter where I take you. You'll see how life is absurd, How its only made to break you. Enchant...