Only the Classics
Only the Classics

Templar Rain

Sometimes the only people we can change is ourselves.

Templar Rain

“Why dost thou fret?” inquired the knight

Behind his colored shield

“Thy face is long, thy eyes as cold

As this sword that I wield.”

“I’m sad, sir knight.” I then replied

My heart did weigh like stone

“I fear I’m lost, can’t find my way

I feel so all alone”

He pondered this as he sat down

Beside me in the wood

Inside a star-born circle

That assured me he was good

His eyes met mine, his steely gaze

I never will forget

His armor rattled as he spoke:

“What hast thou to regret?”

“Thou dwellest in thy folly

And I see thou art no cowan

Why then hast thou brought me here

On this the day of Samhain?”

“I know not where to turn m’ Lord”

My eyes shot to the ground

“I am as lost as any soul

That ever can be found”

His eyes took pity on me then

And though on foreign land

He took the time to wipe my tears

Upon his armored hand

“Weepest not, young lad of mine”

He managed with a smile

“Thou has more heart and courage

Then I have seen in awhile”

“I wish that I were strong and brave

A noble man like thee!”

He looked at me in disbelief

“I know not what ye mean”

“You have charged into battle

Faced the axe, the sword and spear

Fought the Mameluk and Saracen

And never did show fear!”

He grabbed his beard with one hand

As he struck me with the other

I stared at him is disbelief

I thought he was my brother!

I shrieked “Why did you do that man?

Have you no honor left?”

He then proceeded to explain:

“Thou didst this to thyself”

“Think ye I a noble man?

I never had a wife

The only thing I ever did

Was take of human life”

“I never had a family

Could never plant my seed

I do not own a shilling, boy

I cannot even read!”

“I’ve marched to take the Holy Land

With brothers and my kin

And cooked inside the ovens

Trapped inside this metal skin”

“I heard the screams of dying men

No treasure did I hoard

As Muslim, Jew, and Christian were

All put unto the sword”

“They were strange times my friend” he said

“When blood flowed like a fountain

We even had an ally with

The Old Man of the Mountain”

“So when the slaughter ended

And the blood could fill a moat

We won ourselves a piece of wood

So worthless to The Goat”

“The rest the world may never know

The purpose we did fight

There was a reason that we met

In secret and at night”

“I never knew such suffering

I never felt such dread

I never saw such misery

I could not count the dead”

At this he paused in silence

When he finally did say:

“I do not understand the tears

You weep for me today”

“At least you had a purpose

Or at least you had a cause”

I tried to justify myself

And this did give him pause

“I did what I was told to do

I killed and that was all

And so it came to be one day

It was my turn to fall”

“And so this life thou speakest of

With glory, fame and such

Is unknown unto me boy

Does not impress me much”

“If thou had seen the children and

If thou could feel their pain

If thou could hear their mothers weep

Thou would have then known shame”

“But thou art full of vigor

With the youth I never had

Thou hast known a woman” grinned

Then said: “Thou should be glad!”

“I have no meaning to my life!”

I could not choke the lie

He laughed and said he never had

Such freedom ‘til he died

“Can thou not see” he said to me

“The beauty that is life?

Thy flesh will never taste the pain

Of arrow or of knife”

“Will never know of desert winds

Will never know such thirst

Will never know of hunger and

Can never be so cursed”

“Will never be so tortured and

To live so without hope

And never really be betrayed

By either king or pope”

I saw the truth behind his words

As it began to rain

I never will be brought to trial

Or feel the kiss of flame

He stared at me in silence

For eternity it seemed

And then began to realize

The wisdom I had gleaned

He stood at last to bid farewell

He waved with his mailed fist

And disappeared before my eyes

Gone like the morning mist

I closed the circle with a smile

No longer feeling shame

And thanked the Season of the Witch

For bringing Templar Rain

surreal poetry
Logan Solo
Logan Solo
Read next: Poem: New Life
Logan Solo

Life is a mirror and poetry is my reflection.

See all posts by Logan Solo