In a cloak of light,
He rides through the night.
On his steed with wings,
Goodness he brings.
His sword in a sheath,
Drives evil beneath.
The bow on his back,
With unstoppable attack.
A shield of steel,
Makes enemies kneel.
A wooden lance,
To end their dance.
An aura of grace,
With his perfect face.
His pure white hair,
Shines in their lair.
His path is curved,
But he isn't unnerved.
He is the man,
To foil their plan.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautiful imagery! ~Bella