Knight and Day


Holding tea lights to search for sparks in a knight

I notice a tear in my flesh

Blood on my hands

I hide in the shadows, ashamed and cold

My garments are torn and my eyes are stained

He is long gone but I remember

I cannot draw out a sketch of his face

Or echo back word for word

I was lured in by kind but cunning ways

Leaned willingly into his shiny sword

Do I blame the knight on his trusty stead?

Do I damn the blade that cut me?

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