10/08/04
Oath Fulfilled.
The sky above grumbled, laden with tears.
Against the murky sky, a lone rider is seen,
black hair streaming behind.
As he reaches his village where his kindred are retiring.
He cries:
"It is time! They are come!"
Dread washes over families like cold water,
hopelessness and despair evident in their eyes.
A mother reaches out to her son.
Soon she will hold him no longer.
Had five and ten years passed so quick?
As the beat of hooves comes closer,
his father reaches out, taking his shoulder,
then says:
"My son, this oath we pledged, as did our forefathers.
May your courage not crumble, but revel in the glory of battle.
This ring, brave heart, I pass to you from father to son.
May it remind you always where you belong.
He takes his scanty belongings and mounts his horse,
valiant beast of Sarmatia, who's body houses
the spirit of a fallen knight.
Looking back as he heads to his fate foreknown,
ring on his finger, he bids farewell
with promises of valour and of homecoming.
His mother, a lady of fair face, now stained with tears,
cries:
"Fare you well, my child.
May the gods be with you thru all your adventures.
And come home safe, dear heart,
to where you belong.
Though deep in her heart, mother knows best.
He will come not as her son,
but as a noble steed of Sarmatia,
running across the wild steppes of her land.
The sky above breaks, the heavens cry.