The streets were cloaked deep in darkness,
Where the sun would shine no more.
The road was a flowing river,
Paved with the heart of war.
The moon was a dim lit candle,
Wavering in the air,
As a swordsman stood waiting,
Waiting, waiting
The swordsman lurked in waiting,
Within the shadow there.
.
His frame coiled tight as a demon,
Intensely as his will.
His eyes were bright as a burning flame,
Filled with intent to kill.
They watched as his prey drew closer,
And sensed the guard was weak…
In a flash it all was ended,
A stolen future ended—
The only sign it had ended
Lay in the wound on his cheek.
.
The sun bore with it the message
Of silent death in the night
A woman mourned for the passing
Of her love's future bright.
She heard the frightening rumor
As her hand clenched tight on her knife;
It spoke of the bright-eyed demon,
A ruthless, deadly demon
Cursing the name of the demon,
She swore to take his life.
.
It was a moonlit night when she met him
By a cruel twist of fate—
For her blade lay hid in its scabbard,
Untouched by simmering hate.
She stood there, still before him
As blood fell from the sky like rain,
And his wide eyes met hers staring,
Staring, staring
The demon stood there staring,
Drenched with the blood red stain.
.
Her vision blurred and shimmered,
Weak with grief and wine.
Her failing strength unable
To punish him for his crime.
The wind bore the scent of the white plum,
His mind was cast into hell:
For duty bound him to kill her,
His lord would have him kill her!
His heart refused to kill her,
As into his arms she fell.
.
She woke in the care of the demon—
It seemed she need not fear.
And soon she learned of his comrades
As their cruel plan grew clear.
They schemed and plotted against him;
His closest partner said:
"Stay close by the side of the demon,
The silent, bloody demon
Earn the trust of the demon,
And come back with his head."
.
She gripped her knife with new fervor,
Her pitch black eyes grew hard.
By day and night she was watchful,
To catch him off his guard.
In the light of the dawn she found him,
His back against the wall,
In sleep his face was peaceful,
The demon's face was peaceful…
A young heart pure and peaceful—
His weary face told all.
.
The streets were alight with crimson,
The sky a fiery red
As from the fangs of the vicious wolves
Her new companions bled.
Amid the fear and the chaos,
Her demon at her side,
He raised his sword to protect her,
The swordsman swore to protect her—
From now and on he'd protect her,
And swiftly they would hide.
.
In a country house on the hill
Time seemed to sway and blur
As days of peace they shared there,
Safe from the flames of war.
The truth was a whisper of promise
Deep in her soul she knew—
She had fallen in love with the swordsman,
Her sweet and gentle swordsman…
Each moment spent with her swordsman
Their caring slowly grew.
.
But the threads of fate were relentless;
He was a swordsman still.
And those who craved his blood and fame
Were eager for the kill.
In her ear they offered vengeance—
Her frightened eyes went wide.
And they laughed as they spoke of the demon,
They dared to call him a demon!
And she rose in defense of her demon:
For his sake she would fight.
.
By dawn his love was missing;
His heart was tight with dread
When he heard the news from his partner:
She'd been used as bait instead.
And before he could set out to find her,
With anger like a flood—
He was told the dreadful secret,
Her deepest, darkest secret
Of a life destroyed in the moonlight…
The scar ran red with blood.
.
And off he flew toward the sunrise,
His strength burned raw with fear.
The truths and the lies flowed together
Their meanings now unclear.
Through battles his stamina wavered,
But his will grew only more.
Until at last he found her—
Her swordsman came to find her!
With one last foe standing before her,
His soul let out a roar.
.
His sword bore the will of a dragon!
His heart shone through his eyes!
The wounds that laced his body
Echoed in his cries!
But she watched as the pain overcame him,
The sword slowed in its dance—
The weary blade was falling,
Falling, falling…
She saw his strength was falling,
And took her only chance.
.
Blinded with pain and fury,
His blade struck home at last.
Too late he saw her before him—
Her pulse now weak and fast.
Her body stood between them
To halt the enemy's blow,
And now her blood was draining,
Draining, draining…
Her life was slowly draining
Into the deep white snow.
.
She called his name once, softly,
Her voice was frail and weak
As fingers brushed the tear-stained skin
Of his scarred left cheek.
Her hand raised the knife up weakly,
To seal the red mark there—
And she looked up at him, smiling,
Her eyes were truly smiling…
They dimmed as she was smiling;
His heart sank in despair.
.
The streets are caressed by the darkness,
But the sun will shine once more.
The road is a flowing river,
Paved with tales and lore.
The moon is a dim lit candle,
A beacon of hope in the air,
Where legend tells of a swordsman,
A brilliant, bright-eyed swordsman
Now gentle, cross-scarred swordsman,
Who wanders freely there.
.
.
Form and meter for this poem was inspired by Alfred Noyes' "The Highwayman". I heard Loreena McKennitt's adaptation of it, and couldn't get it out of my head...