Three Crippled Knights

From darkened castle Cravenstone, where dwell three crippled knights,
A raven perches quite alone on crenellated heights.
And as the new moon hovers high, the tale begins therein,
Malicious curses gather neigh, narration’s now begin.

The stately raven makes no sound, but only cocks his head.
He eyes the darkly shadowed ground, where dragons oft have bred.
He spreads his wings, then off he goes, and blends into the sky,
As if he is the one who knows, and chooses thus to fly.

Within the chiseled castle walls, three souls do languish there,
Midst echoes in the empty halls, where none would ever dare
To venture nor to spend a while, unwelcome is the word,
For absent is the friendly smile, sweet greetings never heard.

They cluster ‘round a smold’ring fire, a fallen rood close by.
Ridiculous in their attire, which seems to magnify
The worthless lives that is their lot, the wasteland of each day,
For knights-errant they’re surely not, they’ve neither foe nor prey.

Old Breccan stares at yonder wall with glazed and sightless eyes,
And Galivir no longer stands, no matter how he tries.
Fierce Bradwen scowls and shakes his head and wishes others harm,
But all for naught, for in its stead, a stump in place of arm.

Twas only seven years ago, with skies o’ercast and grey,
The ground were white, new-fallen snow, on sullen Scottish brae.
And he astride the soot-black horse, n’er pauses but attacks,
But flung at him with no remorse, a scythe-like throwing ax.

Fierce Bradwen felt the searing pain and watched the snow turn red,
And waking not where he had lain, he deemed he must be dead.
The nauseous smell of flesh, well burned, a face not seen before,
The life he thought was lost, returned, he’d ask for nothing more.

“I cauterized thy severed arm, thy screams awoke the dead,
But now I smile , thy life is charmed, it’s like the god’s have said
That life has more in store for thee, what be it I know not,
A one-armed knight is what ye be, ye’ll be no Lancelot.”

And in that same foresaken year, close by to Dunsinane,
From Birnam Wood he did appear, his destiny ordained
By one small hole it be decreed, his battle never fought,
The foreleg of his trusted steed had found the hole not sought.

The giant horse then crashed to earth, our Galivir is thrown,
His legs pinned ‘neath the massive girth, his future’s seeds are sown.
The pain o’erwhelms and all goes black, he never could expect
That fate had taken him aback, he’s now an knight-reject.

An ox-drawn wagon holds our man, he sprawls there on the hay,
He joins the rag-tag caravan, of all the wounded prey.
His useless legs now lock his stare, if he were she, she’d cry.
Perchance it’s more than he can bear, t’will know if in the bye.

When Breccan went to Renfrewshire, close by to Inverclyde,
To seek the dragon Ganndolfire, where’ere he might abide,
If he but slay fierce Ganndolfire, and bring back severed head
To show the king and all the shire the beast was truly dead.

The dragon rises up full height, but Breccan fears him naught.
He eyes the brave and daring knight, who’s braver than he ought.
A sudden spat, the venom flies, the dragon’s been unkind,
A burning fire fells Breccan’s eyes, our knight is now quite blind.

The raven flies and lands once more, and casts an evil glare,
For what his presence holds in store, our knights are unaware.
The darkened clouds are closing in, a sense of doom prevails,
Yet ‘fore the evil can begin, arrive the nightengales.

Amidst the dark a spot of white, a lovely dove appears,
A contrast to the raven’s blight, a hope to banish fears.
The unsuspecting trio’s fate be hov’ring in the air,
And none would dare to speculate who’ll win between this pair.

The lightning flashed, the thunder crashed, the raven’s eyes glowed red.
The dove rose up and flailed it wings, the held them wide outspread.
The dark o’erwhelmed and then the light, the castle be the quest,
So through the turmoil of the night, the knights would get no rest.

Within the now chilled castle walls, the knights, dumbstruck, abide.
They hear the raven’s frenzied calls, the tumult that’s outside.
And yet amidst the clamor and the noise of vicious strife,
Three crippled knights, a motley band, for each feared for his life.

“Why rage the tempest here tonight, it be the devil’s spell,
I pray that by the morning light, we’ll not be trapped in hell.”
As Breccan spake those trembling words, the raven shrieked once more.
“Who sendeth out such fiendish birds, to trouble at my door?

Then through the howl of wind and rain, a new sound fills the air.
A sound the knights cannot explain, a sound unique and rare.
The Nightingales have joined the dove in perfect harmony.
Can music that bursts forth from love now save our crippled three?

“Those fiendish birds have changed their tune, and hark, the storm doth cease.”
Saith Galivir, “and none too soon, shall we now have our peace?”
Blind Breccan huddles, trembling, “Aye, I’ve n’er heard such a storm,
And if that bloody wind blows neigh, we’re cursed to n’er be warm.

Then through a high up window far above the three knight’s heads,
As if cast free from yonder star, a warming light now spreads.
“What be the source of glor’ous warmth? Tis midday’s heat at dawn.”
Blind Breccan ponders on the change, at why the storm is gone.

And then a voice, a soothing sound fills up the lighted hall.
The knights swing puzzled heads around, and see a dove, quite small.
“Tonight thy souls were cast adrift, the battle raged outside,
Thy noble traits have won a gift, twas evil cast aside.

For those who brought the pain and grief, were dead within a twit,
Their evil souls then sought relief, escape from hades pit.
The cursed raven, black as sin, then conjured up the gale,
And all the wrath twas loosed therein, to bring pain and travail.

The axe-less horseman met his fate, a pole axe found his head.
The dragon found himself prostrate, pierced through and quickly dead.
Their evil souls, constrained at last, revenge filled ev’ry thought,
And thus their lot was fin’ly cast, revenge was what they bought.

But good o’erwhelmed the evil here, which no one could foretell.
Where nightingales did interfere, they saved thy souls from hell.
So live now knights as though reprieved, thy valor has not failed,
E’en though thy hearts had not believed, thy goodness has prevailed.