My knight whose armor’s dulled by age and rust,
Whose hair that once was black is streaked with gray,
Go face the dragon if thou feel thou must,
And take with thee my love, be safe I pray.
Thy mind wells up with deeds of long-gone past.
It’s thinks just as it did long years ago,
And conjures up a dream that cannot last
Of hero’s deeds and lost bravissimo.
Alas thy sway-backed steed stands ready there,
And eyes thee with a forlorn look of dread.
Yet unlike thee he seems to be aware
That senselessness could leave thee both quite dead.
My foolish knight, please heed my fervent plea.
Forsake thy quest, and spend the night with me.
Silver trophy winner
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