A Monk and His Madness
A number of glorious deeds
The knight of valor had done,
But the one that stays in my mind the most
Was the one of the sir and his son.
He had defeated knights with courage
Only the dragons possessed,
But also the dragons had he slain
Until there was none of them left.
He had traveled the lands beyond
Along with the ones that were near.
Nothing was there he hadn't faced;
So nothing did he fear.
Except that of his son,
The one he had raised with pride,
The one he had shown the ways of the knight,
The one always at his side.
He had trained him through and back
All the skills of the field.
A man must be of a god's descent
If better a sword he'd wield.
And often was it proven
This son of his was gold,
But destined was he not for gems,
Instead to sell his soul.
He had the courage of kings.
He knew only but the truth,
But when he traveled the distant lands
Through evil he was seduced.
He turned on all that was good.
He turned on all that was taught.
He turned on the code of chivalry
For evil he purely fought.
His downfall was his page,
A sorcerer in many ways.
But when he spoke an evil awoke
That started this endless craze.
Awakening was the night,
One of noble birth in light.
But when he's exposed in truest repose,
It shan't be a feeling of might.
This page was dwarfed in size,
But knowledge he claimed his prize.
So when he had started, the goodness departed
Which charted this strand of lies.
He told the son of the moon
And the light that was soon to swoon.
For when he would listen, the darkness would glisten
So bright one would think it was noon.
The father would never be told
About the sudden change.
For if it were revealed to him
He'd go into certain rage.
But soon the father saw
This difference in his son.
By then, however, it was much too late.
The damage had been done.
When realizing this
It brought him so much pain.
His tears began to fall so thick
They swallowed up the rain.
He knew it couldn't go on.
He had to take a chance.
Never before he ever thought
He'd be saddled with his lance.
Ready to face his son
For he was the helpless one,
He knew what to do; he must run him through
To stop what had begun.
But the son had another thought.
To defend his page he fought.
So his father he'd slay to end the way
Of the goodness the honor had taught.
With that the two would kill
The wounds sustained made ill.
But those of the knight would end this fight.
The squire had much more skill.
There the soldier'd lay
Helpless to this day.
If not for naught as an afterthought
The vultures claimed their prey.
For the death the squire was proud.
He boasted far and loud
Of the need for the sudden speed
of a priest and his father's shroud.
The knight had many friends.
His honor they would defend,
When they'd find the son they'd bind
To a church and hope he'd mend.
.
For the rest of his meager days
In a church must he stay.
If he were to leave, his head they would cleave,
And God he would have to repay.
The page, however, went free.
Through sorrow they could not see
How a child so meek and mild
Could cause complexity.
The son would feel remorse
For the evil in his heart.
So much time had passed in prayer
He knew he must depart
And change what had gone wrong.
To mend his evil deeds
He'd need an act by God's own hand.
His page is what he'd need.
So off he'd go in search
For this minstrel of the dark.
In spite of the consequence
On this mission he'd embark.
He traveled long and far,
Never finding a clue.
Looking for this elder page
His patience wearing through.
Knowing he'd been trailed,
He finally gave in
Accepting death for what it's worth
Accepting he had sinned.
When the hunter came
For the bounty on his head,
He decided he had killed enough
so he let him live instead.
The man he thought familiar.
The man he'd seen before.
It took him but a minute to see
It was the page of yore.
The page would take delight
In crushing people's souls.
So what a better job for him
to kill and get paid with gold.
The page was not as quick as he.
He didn't know who he'd caught.
All he thought was death and blood
for evil he purely fought.
Then, came one day
They were passing by
A spot they well remembered.
The spot his father died.
They stayed there that night.
The page grew deathly ill.
Nearing that of death itself
and brought back by God's own will.
However, he could not move.
The illness made him weak.
All he had was his faith
And a future that looked bleak.
Knowing he'd caught a priest
He asked why he was not dead.
The priest simply said to him,
"To goodness you've been led".
Enough to shake his pride
Enough to shake his will
Never would he hurt again
Never would he kill.
He asked the priest to take
Him back to the church
To learn the ways of a monk.
A new soul he would search.
By this the priest was angered
For he had searched his well,
And all because of the page
His life had turned to Hell.
He banished the page from all
Religious sanctuary.
Never let him retain faith
Never let him marry.
The page would die alone
As also did the knight.
Only then would he reap
The truest form of light.
He soon felt remorse
For the evil ways he'd shown.
He realized what had become of him
And there he died alone.
There the soldier'd lay
Helpless to this day.
If not for naught as an afterthought
The vultures claimed their prey.
Jeeves Kel
© 2000