A knight at the castle gates.
Prepared to give his life.
The drawbridge opens.
The trumpets sound.
His honor not in question.
But now is the time.
His armor once golden.
That shined against the Sun.
Now bloodied and heavy.
His sword once righteous.
Now knows the terrible truth.
To keep peace, there must be war.
The men he doesn’t know.
Many he has killed.
He knows not their faces.
Only the blood on his sword.
There once was a philosopher.
That said “All men are evil until proven otherwise”.
We can’t all be knights.
But some part resides.
A craving for power.
That all men hide.