Arthur Ironclad Poem by Jake Walker

Look atop the hill!
Distant he stands away while
Defeating legions, corps, brigades:
Their weakness strew upon the glade.

Wind gently flows and blows,
Over mountainous hills it goes.
Moving objects across its natural path,
But failed to predict the Iron’s wrath:

Cased within our warrior stands,
His mind at ease with steady hands:
Casting his shadow long and true,
His blade culls quickly, leaving few.

Courageous in his unwavering might.
Mirthless; into hearts grows fright
At his smile envisioned beneath the mask:
Could I wonder this bold knight’s task?

Purpose-bereft I feel he is. Rented mercenary,
A name uttered beyond the hills
And part of such a gallant guild, riding down the mountain once more:
His dying shadow the green hill bore.

And as my tired sight rested upon his armour,
Pensive I saw his heart beneath and saw the iron that it harboured.