Stepping out from castle walls

to where good and evil dwell,

and gaze upon the battlefield

where valiant warriors fell.

And the demon that is within me sleeps.

Friend and foe lay side by side.

Blood from mortal wounds doth seep.

Sword and mace lay on the ground.

Kith and kin of fallen weep.

And the demon that is within me stirs.

As I stand in mournful silence,

a sound behind myself I hear.

Creak of armor, and sigh of wind,

and then the pain above mine ear.

And the demon that is within me wakes.

A blinding pain behind mine eyes as

the ground rushes up to hold my head,

and I lay here in dented armor,

mimicking the fallen dead.

And the demon that is within me rises.

Oblivious to the waves of pain,

seeing naught but red within mine eyes,

I take up sword that lieth there,

and swing it madly, hard and wide.

And the demon that is within me rages.

Seeing naught, caring naught who dies,

I heave the broadsword all around,

to cleave in two, all who art near,

'til bodies stack up on the ground.

And the demon that is within me abates.

Wearily resting, leaning on my sword,

it's point tipped downward in the land.

As my sight returneth to see the carnage,

the sword falls lifeless from my hand.

And the demon that is within me rests.

What hath I done whilst in my rage?

The blood now thick upon the soil.

Enemy and friend hath died this day

for the demon didst cause my blood to boil.

And the demon that is within me sighs.

Would that I could wield that sword

and pierce assunder my aching chest,

to slay the rage within my soul

that is the demon within my breast.

Long after the bloody battle,

on the hill beyond the walls,

staring upward toward the tower,

one lone knght remains.

Sitting on his steed of white

with his helmet in his hand,

armor dented from the battle,

keeping vigil in the rain.

Watching high up on the tower

to the one small window there,

hopeful that the fair young maiden,

perchance, would happen by.

Only once, had he seen her,

in the window in the tower,

peering ot upon the battle,

with hair of gold and eyes of light.

Knowing, well, within his heart,

reality would not let him have her,

still he sits upon his steed,

watching, whilst his heart doth dream.

And while the maiden watches from the tower,

his soul doth start to wither,

and then departs the realm of life,