The Knight of the Fountain

Amid a sea of flame and smoke,

In darkest shadow, as the yoke

Of evil falls upon the free,

And kings are forced to bend the knee

Before their city, ash and stone,

There rises up a knight, alone.

His robes are tattered, stained, and torn,

His brothers, fallen ‘neath the horde

That swarmed through ancient halls of stone

And left the grandeur broken down;

Through treach’rous deed of lesser man,

This realm shall never rise again.

But up against a demon foul,

The last knight sets his noble brow

And raises sword of brightest steel

That e’er was forged ‘neath royal seal,

And charges forth, himself forgot,

To lay in dust this evil blot.

A fight most terrible to see,

Of flame, and spark, and life to be,

Or living death in shadow’s thrall,

Should darkness set his throne o’er all;

Yet still the noble knight endures,

His heart of courage burning pure.

And so, the fiery demon falls,

The heralds all take up the call;

But costly is this vict’ry won,

For many fell of this land’s sons.

Their deeds of valor, bold and true,

Are sung the generations through.