Quest Poem by Thomas Ware

The hero did embark along,
A quest immortalized in song,
A quest along a rocky road,
But where it ended, none now know.

He camped each night with fire strong,
To ward off the nightly throng,
He camped each night in barren land,
Where fire and doom reach out their hand,
Where rock formations tower grand.
Many miles did he roam,
Across the desolate wasteland alone,
Years and years across that desert loam.
Harsh gusty winds availed his face,
And dust and grit ground down his grace,
And shifting sands covered any trace,
Of his passing,
And at last he amassed and then surpassed,
Now he was no mere knight,
But a man burdened with right,
A dusty pilgrim holding off the night,
A weathered man who would not give up the fight,
For all he knew, the last ancient guardian of the light.

After countless miles and years traversed,
He reached the mountain where the dragon perched,
A massive, mighty, reptile beast,
Who traveled that immense distance in a heartbeat for his feast.
He breathed fire, with diamond scales,
His teeth were sharp, the man's heart quailed.
Many men had fought him far from here,
But only he trod this path of fear,
In the faint hope that it was vulnerable in its lair,
And so he dismounted his ubiquitous mare.

He donned his armor, shining steel,
And drew his sword with long-suppressed zeal.
And though he was all alone,
His companions and his god on his dark throne,
Appeared before him as if real flesh and bone.
He took solace in their presence,
But alas, staying was amiss,
For he was in sight of its infernal nest,
And dragons do not miss.

He arose with cheerful heart anew,
And prepared to rip the dragon bone from sinew.
He sprinted toward the high rocky spire,
And the dragon breathed down its infernal fire,
And down the weary man did dive,
And finally began to thrive.
He leapt to his feet, adrenaline coursing now,
And from his heightened senses the dragon was indeed cowed,
But before that monster could escape,
The dragon was seized by its draconic nape!
In fury the dragon unsheathed its claws,
But lo, the knight scathed its hide raw,
With burning sword and valorous gaze,
The dragon met its match in those ancient days.

For many hours the pair did fight,
Until the mornings last glorious light,
Had faded,
And then for the night was traded.
The man did not fear the darkness black,
But when the dawn did lack,
He heard a loud resounding crack,
For the hordes of night did draw quite near,
And gazed upon the knight with their dread leer,
And he knew that he must slay this beast,
Before the fiends could on him feast.
The dragon roared with seeming triumph,
But with futile desperate defiance,
The man drew out his final ace,
And with his sword smote the dragon's face!
It shrieked and clawed in infernal pain,
And the man stabbed down his sword again,
And plunged its point into the reptile eye,
And then the dragon wailed, and died.

The menace was gone and the kingdom saved,
But the man now headed to his grave,
For with that mighty blow his sword did break,
And the wailing demons descended and ate.

And with the dawn's light what was there left,
Of the noble brave warrior who now heavenward crept,
Only a rusted, pitted hilt,
And only shards were left of his guilt.
And the knight never saw victory, nor returned,
To the long lost land of the spurned.