At The Threshold Moment (A "Manly" Poetry Tale of One Lone Victorious Knight)
I'm Sorry to Say....
But if you don't quite get this one...or just can't get into the theme of this particular "Manly" Poem. Then, All my Hope of Bringing "Manly" Poetry to the World is Lost.
"Be Strong for your Threshold Moment!" Signed, MPM
At the Threshold Moment...I take sword in hand,
And at the Threshold Moment...I am ready to make a stand.
An Invading Army has scaled our Castle Wall,
I retrieve my longblade from its' scabbard; I shall defend this hall.
To protect fair lady, I will fight until I die,
But dying shall not help her...I must defeat all…I must try.
They are coming...I can hear their gnarling,
Like a pack of wolves they’re coming...But, I am also snarling.
For at the Threshold Moment, they have played into my hand,
With armor, sword, and traps at ready...I’m well prepared to make this stand.
The squadron to take the tower soon approaches, It has all come down to this,
The first arrow flies above me; They have started their siege off...with a miss.
I back up and start to run, careful of my footing while enroute,
At the top of the staircase, I light the greasefire, then listen to them shout!
With crossbows ready, I unleash my bolts on them...and two assailants fall,
I did each one a favor, they were struck before the fire touched them at all.
Now at fire’s end, I start my battle down, sword thrusting into smoky air,
Striking men in fiery pain advancing...of their injuries...they have no care.
When they have renewed in spirit, I’ll be finished, of this I am aware,
Still I have one final weapon, under my lips I say a prayer.
O’ Lord, help one man against a thousand…that is all I ask,
Please give me strength I am pleading...sufficient for the task.
With swords swinging...I clash on and on against these mighty men,
Smoke filled eyes, and some skin burning, I will hold on to the end.
Arrows hit all around me, some bounce away, and some go in,
I still have one more trap left, though…I must gain atop the stairs, once again.
With my sword, the only thing between us, I must hasten my retreat,
In agony, I make my way back, must still stay on both my feet.
A lance pierces through my armor, in more pain now than I’ve ever been,
Tis’ nothing but a mortal flesh wound...It’s not over till I say when!
At advancing squadron...I still proceed to yell,
They are close behind my footsteps...I am finished…they can tell.
To top of tower hall...To pull the lever...the last defense we had to install,
A rolling boulder...squashing yon attackers like grapes...against the wall.
For days we labored...rolling this huge stone towards up tower high,
Worth every moment...to see the astonished look in my foe’s eye!
With second wind I have become renewed,
Strong of sword...and combat shrewd.
Attack I...those who have managed,
To make it thus far, and receive no internal damage.
With wildness of a vengeful sort,
My sword will answer...My blade shall give report.
For this day have you stormed the wrong castle; And I…will help to make it known,
You cost your land a legion…the day you set to capture our King’s thrown.
I shall slash, cut, and maim you for attempting this attack,
Now, reach the bottom of tower stairway; Singlehandedly...have I pushed back.
Then, grab thy enemy’s longbow…that was lying at foot of tower wall,
To let fly a quiver of arrows at thy new opposers, While‘st their second line begins to fall.
And look at yonder kinsman, crushing back their last advance…and winning!
I see the victory is now at our gate…Yet…in my weakness my eyes are dimming.
But still shout I…with sword that’s raised high…one last great and valiant cheer!
Our enemy turned to fall back…leaving all their weapons…as each one began to hear.
Defenders of our kingdom…run them down valley’s slope…out past our furthest hill.
Look what man can overcometh! If in his own heart, he thus chooses his own will.
And stare I...At Noble CastleTower...which has now witnessed and withstood,
A mighty onslaught, and then to watch our enemy flee the kingdom’s valley for good!
At the Threshold Moment...with you O’ Lord...and Kinsman by my side,
Was I able to save fair maiden; Thus with huge piercing, and many arrow wounds…I died!
Be Strong for your Threshold Moment ...
In Humble Regards,
Manly Poetry Man
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