The Spear and the Shield

In a quiet, bright square of the queen's country side,
just before the grand castle with dark casted shadow,
stands guard a young man both brave and untried.

Giddy with hope and beaming with pride,
he sings his songs of flame and arrow:

"Ne'er retreat nor flee to the side, for the path to glory is straight and narrow."

Unable to withhold a meaningful smile,
the queen's knight beams upon his young son.
Having never left his side -- for but one step behind,
the knight readies his steed for the dark deeds to come.

For in the distance, screams of the enemy
pierce the kingdom's fleeting solace,
as they take positions near the central tower,
and call for the head of the "great" King Wallace.

His majesty stands tall and wide,
with faith immune to the harrowing chants.
For the god that he knows he does hold in his hands,
as his warrior mightiest does he hold by his side.

Her majesty, the queen, feared by all but one:
her knight, the father of their young, forbidden son.
Unbeknownst to the king, unbeknownst to the squire...
her great loves divided by the bishop's great spire.

The man of the cloth, not void of suspicion,
looked upon his neighbors for signs of contrition.
But the seeds of guilt and of shame that were planted,
long ago grew to pride for the child they were granted.

And as the white knight and his lover charge into battle,
the young man,
locked in bitter combat with a foe his equal,
looks helplessly upon the wrath before his eyes.

The last living witness to the tragic demise!

For the queen, the knight, and the bishop;
all sacrificed by their cowardly king,
perished upon the central tower,
ridding the fields of all foes but one.

The dark monarch,
lingering in the distant shadows,
cornered by the feeble Wallace,
laughing upon the fallen heroes...

Failing to hear the young man sing:

"Ne'er retreat nor flee to the side, for the path to glory is straight and narrow."

Step by step, the young man marches,
finding his way through the pathway burrowed.
And there, at the end, lay his mother's spear,
and just beside it, his father's shield near.

Enraged and emboldened, he turns to his right,
climbs out of the trench,
and embraces with might,
the spear and the shield once wielded with love.

And when wielded again,
bring to a swift end,
the lives and the heads...

of the cowardly kings.