A/N: Just a short poem as Tristan's poverb a little before, during, and after his death. Some parts are better than others, but oh well. And before you start, I do not own Tristan or any other recognizable events/characters, and this is only meant for entertainment, so please don't sue. ;) Thank you!
The Dark Days
The dark days have come.
And while others fear,
we somehow remain full of cold and collect.
Was it bred into our blood?
Inherited from generations past?
That is one thing Arthur's God alone shall only know.
As for me, the scout named of Tristan, I am content to let loose the hawk within me,
as I twirl and dodge in the heat of battle.
And the hawk within me flies above the clouds,
even as I draw my final breath.
As the be-cursed Saxon raises the blade,
and delivers the blow that all these years I knew would come.
By my own sword killed was I.
Ironic, is it not,
that by the blade that killed so many shall now kill me?
And as the cold steel strikes,
and my life fades away,
the hawk so long my friend, and now free,
flies through the skies above my head.
My soul is with him now,
nothing but a breath of wind over his mahogany wings.
The sounds of battle leave my ears,
and his careening cry whistles through my mind.
The hawk within me no longer is imprisoned,
free to fly now, among the clouds and below the stars.
Maybe it will stay here in Britian,
or shall it fly back to where I used to call my home?
That is a choice I shall make in time,
but not right now.
Now is the time for rest.
But I have one last task.
One last quest.
To see my fellow knights safely through the battle.
Lancelot and me,
and Dagonet as well.
The hawks in our souls are free again.
But before we go, a promise we must keep.
Our fellow knights shall be seen safely through.
And whether they know it or not,
We shall watch them for a time,
from above them, in the sky aloft.
And then, maybe after our last journey and last quest,
we shall once again roam the land so free.
But will it be hooves beating on the ground,
or wings, taking to the air?