Night breathes deep in silent gloom, Winds whisper secrets of vengeance soon. In the palace corridors, shadows start to creep, The lust for power is worshipped deep. The noble hall gathers in heavy hush, With strings of envy, they greet and blush. “His throne is hers, but how much longer? Now is the time to pull her under!” One voice rises, the others follow fast, They raise their weapons to tear the princess at last. They carry out the plot and come charging in, Through the blackest funnel of night’s dark sin. In the grand chamber with silk curtains drawn, The princess lies awake, sensing the dawn. So too the knight, her faithful guard so true, Feels something wrong in the air he knew. The rumble of footsteps on the stone floor rings, The mob bursts in, smashing doors and things. In an instant, swords are drawn with deadly speed, The knight fights fiercely to make the traitors bleed. The princess watches her knight as he strikes, His blade gleams bright with thick red spikes. Blood spills across the aristocratic bed, As the princess joins in, striking with dread. “Princess, run! Save yourself now!” The knight shouts hoarsely, voice breaking somehow. He holds them back as they surge and swarm, Though stabs and slashes strike his form. In the darkness the knight still stands his ground, Blood flows freely, his body breaking down. The princess flees as he had sworn, And turns to shout, "Come forth, you scorn!"
