All along the Castle walls, spread out swords & ammunition

Staring daggers at a man on a horse, materialising premonition

Scathing through the green fields, towards the dark towers

Sentenced to anonymity, returning at this known hour

Subjugated to the injustice, the norm of the land

Fled to escape the puishment of a loss of a hand

Soon to become a legend, a folklore for the ages

Preached by priests, sermon of sages

The guards wait for permission, ready to assault

To unfurl the King’s Justice, to silence any revolt

Their eyes waver, defeated at the blaze of the Sun

Cowardice masquarading behind the pride of a gun

The horse cuts air faster, as if to embrace its fate

Saddled by the rider, with the unknown face

People crowd the streets, knowing something’s amiss

At a distance cometh the son, approaching his mother for a kiss

The King stands aloof, contemplating & measuring risk

The Rider grows confident, his strides more brisk

If this is how he bades farewell, what a way to depart!

Each bullet through his chest, and piercing the people’s hearts

The king runs to his fortification, ordering high alert

Guns be damned, from hereforth, more fatal are words

The Citizens across land rise, souls & bones reignited within

Some say the rider rode alone, others know he brought the winds.

⁃ मंच



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