In
the Castle hall stands his armor, in need of
dusting
Beside it his shield, battle scarred, and
rusting
His sword hangs there too, upon the wall
Many has been the day since its last call
The
days of Knights have faded fast
And of his kind he now is the last
No longer needed by the King
No more Dragons left to be slain
No
more Quest, no more Crusades
No more Glory, no more Parades
No more cheering from the standing crowds
No more the need for men so proud
In
the stable house his Steed still resides
No more together will they be called to ride
No more the need for horse and Knight
No battles left for them to fight
They
were once an awesome team
Held by all in high esteem
They were feared by those who knew their fame
And long held in favor by the King
But
those were times that have now passed
For horse and Knight have rode their last
Times have changed, and they've grown old
There is no more the need for beast, and man so
bold
In
his chamber the Knight now sleeps, in dreams of
quests
Dreams of the many times in battle, of how he had
stood the test
Dreams of how with his armor donned and his colors
worn
He fought the forces of Evil, from mountains to
shore
Dreams
of Dragons with breath of flame
Who once roamed the Kingdom, and killed and
maimed
Nightmares of the Mighty Dragon "Iger"
That long ago he slew, with just his
dagger
The
Dragon knelt down to taunt the Knight with its
head
Just seconds later the mighty beast lay dead
The Dragon knew not of the Knight's good aim
He was killed by the blade driven deep to his
brain
In
the Knight's trophy room "Iger's" head now
hangs
With molding scales, and rotting fangs
The dagger still stuck there, between eye and
ear
Thrust deep by the hand of the Knight, who knew not
fear
Other
treasures too, adorn this hallowed place
His great battle ax, his favorite mace
The sword of Abitar, the wise old Wizard
He took in trade for Iger's huge gizzard
The
golden goblet from which he drank the wine
When in days of yore, with the King he dined
A silken garment that the Queen once did wear
A trophy among Knights, not all that
rare
The
tooth of a wolf, the eye of snake
The claw of an eagle, all kept for good luck's
sake
The key to a door of which only he knows
A place from his past where no one else
goes
A
caldron from the Temple of The Order Of Witches
Those Sisters of Satan, those foul evil bitches
They lured him in, thinking him simple
But now the caldron is filled with their warts and
their pimples
All
these things are the remnants of more glorious
days
When he was the object of envy and praise
Days that are gone now, lost forever in time
Days that now live only in the Knight's own
mind
Back
in his chamber, on a small wooden stand
Just within reach of the Knight's trembling right
hand
Bathed in the light of a dimly burning candle
A lock of golden hair from a fair young
Damsel
He
once saved her life, she then stole his heart
And until the day that she died, they did not
part
She was his crown jewel, the very essence of his
life
She gave him her love, she was his cherished
wife
She
lay resting now, down in the castle crypt
For seventeen years now, every day he has made the
trip
Down the stairs, through passageways, narrow and
wide
To kneel by her tomb, where a million tears he has
cried
She
was the greatest treasure that he ever knew
With her long golden hair, and eyes so deep
blue
With that face of such beauty, and body so shapely
in form
On the coldest of nights, she kept her Knight
warm
Before
this night is over, he'll join her in eternal
sleep
His soul will rest with hers, their love forever to
keep
What a fitting place for the Great Knight to
rest
Next to the one whom in life he loved
best
Now
outside the lightning is flashing
The castle quakes from the thunder crashing
The rain pours down, the wind blows, oh so cold
What fitting night to die, for a Knight brave and
bold
Held
next to his heart by a once mighty right hand
The lock of golden hair, with its many long
strands
That hand bares still the ring of Realm, worn with
great pride
Now comes the end, for the Last Knight has
died
The
word will go out, all through the land
Of how he died with the lock of hair held in his
hand
His deeds now become legend, his honor will live
on
For last night, The Last Knight died just before
dawn
