Sunday, November 15, 2015

The Templar's Dream

by Virginia A. Edwards

A Templar Knight of noble deed 
was summoned by his holy creed, 
to fight for Christ and plant His seed, 
for those who pierced His heart to bleed.

The splendid Savior's name would rise, 
as rightful King in pagan eyes. 
Oh that would be his greatest prize, 
for that one man should gladly die!

His stallion white was armored well, 
the gallant night would vanquish hell. 
To conquer where his foes did dwell, 
he swore their pride would soon be felled. 

His Lord the victor of the world, 
the unbelievers would be hurled. 
So help him if he fought alone, 
to capture rightly Land and Home, 
for on that Knight God's Light had shown.

That valiant knight soon from his quest, 
his tired bones then sought some rest. 
He knew his sleep would thus be blessed, 
for safe was he in battle dressed.
With sword in sheath, and shield aside 
he laid to rest his Christian pride. 

Beneath an Olive tree he knelt, 
and in God's name he freed his cry: 
"My Lord I simply can not go 
by weariness and fear, 
I think it best to close my eyes 
until my strength is here."

Now madness settled rather fast, 
imbuing him with dream. 
Upon a city oe'r the hills, 
the Lord shown down His Beam.

The knight could see from distance great, 
in darkness oe'r the land, 
A brilliant cross that burnished bright, 
and holding it a hand.

How small it was beneath the stars 
that lit the cobalt skies. 
He strained to focus on its shape, 
and it vanished from his eyes. 

With that our brave knight shook his head, 
and nodded from his dream. 
He splashed upon his sweating brow, 
some water from a stream.

Inspired evermore was he 
to crush the infidel, 
who cursed the precious Land of Christ 
with foreign tongue and spell.

He reached the mighty City gate, 
and galloped in with storm. 
The unbelievers froze in place, 
by his swiftly iron form.

"I've come here in the name of Christ, 
to save His sacred Land!",
and from his breast plate pulled a cross 
that glistened in his hand.

Then by his solo fighting band, 
he swung his sword in efforts grand. 
But the flashing blade was soon oppressed, 
and our valiant Knight in chain mail dressed 
met his Sainthood by his actions blessed. 
For he died with arrows in his chest.

No cry of anguish fled his lips, 
nor gasp of rasping breath. 
For the cross of Christ that won his life, 
had saved him from true Death.

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