Dragon Knight

Golden scales plate his armor, the sun shines brighter where he stands.

He weilds a sword forged of pain and restless sighs and a shield scarred with burns etched deep through. 

 

Tired of adventure, he's gone seeking validation that he has a fate or a destiny. He breaks down by the lake, stripping down to the uniforms of his birth.

 

He sets to work on his armor, polishing it's every plate and chain.

Then lenghens his sword- adding an inch to his burden.

 

He caught a glimpse of his reflection floating accross the water

from which protruded a pair of bright red horns, and one was cut right down the middle.

 

Memories flashed through his mind in agony:

Witchcrafts and a princess up the tallest tower, nights by a lake, watching the torchlight whilst expecting the dawn. But love was but the thorn of a rose.

 

Looking down crimson eyes through the mirror of the water's surface

at his wings as carpets in the wind he counted all of his scales.

 

For as a knight who's heart still beats, grand as legends, he bears a painful thought:

What is such power for if not to sacrficie one's self for others?