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Red Tiger - Revised
19 October, 2007
Author: Ing Twi Demalah

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She, being the daughter,
The embodiment of the moon
Was possessed of all things
Called fair and lovely
For her eyes were set as gems
Within a field of soft white
And her hair, sable, satin, serene
Shimmered as a spiders’ silken thread
Amidst the morning dew.
And for her beauty didst all men
Seek sorely after her
Yet not of love but of lust were driven
And thus the darkness crept upon her
Desiring in itself to consume her innocence
To steal from her that light which
Shone endlessly from her heart
Leaving her broken and hurting
And longing for love
Thus her life and light were spent
And so it was that she laid herself down
That she might leave her body
And resign her spirit to the abyss
That place of darkness found
In a life lovelessness

He was, as it were a knight
After the old order and the old code
And for many a year he fought tirelessly
Against the darkness
Felling many of its dragons
His wrath un-doing the wicked found in life
Ceaseless though his efforts were
A world which favors the darkness
And the failing number of his kind
Had left him aged beyond his years and wounded
And his helm was stricken and his shield broken
His armor no longer shone but was rusted and worn
And his mighty sword dulled
His arms ached and felt heavy
As he tried valiantly to wield his blade
His body wracked with the pain of countless wounds
Began to succumb to weariness
Thus he leaned heavily upon his sword
And of fatigue took he, a knee
And resigned himself that he would
Find him a hill and there fight
Until his breath left him
And lay himself down and die in darkness
For such was the fate of fading knights
In a life of lovelessness

And so it was he sought his resting place
And found her lying cold and still
The moon’s sweet and lovely daughter
Upon that last green hill
Thus courage crept into his heart again
And kneeling he reached out for her
As she reached out for him
For he was still a knight you see
And not all her light had dimmed
Knowing naught about her
Himself wiped the tears from her eyes
And wrapped her arms about him
And held him for a while
And through the wounds and the heart ache
Both began to smile
And her eyes began to sparkle once more
For she had longed for him and he loved her this she knew
And did softly in his ear confess
That she did love him too
Despite a life of lovelessness

But the hounds of the darkness and its dragons
Came quick and near they drew
And she gave to him one last kiss
Before their lives were through
“My love…” She said
“We found each other I fear too late.
Lay here with me now, before our fate.”
Her kiss lit the fires of his heart and strong they grew
And his spirit burned now white hot
And he rose against their doom
For her love had conferred such strength
As to bind his heart and wounds
Thus slowly to his feet did stand
And his face was youthful again
And shone as it were the noon day sun
And his eye seemed set a flame
His skin was bright and red as burning embers
And his hair was black as a midnight storm
The heat of his wrath flared
And his sword melted at his feet
And his armor fell from his chest
And behold to the darkness he stood there a great tiger
And named himself the tempest made manifest
And hound and dragon fled before his wrath
Ever he wrestles with the Darkness
That it never again transgress
Upon his love nor that hill
Wherein they found their life of lovingness
The Red Tiger

------- Author's Notes -------

My pen.....got to be the pen. :-)

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Comments on this poem/writing:

Bipedalguy (75.67.182.104) -- Saturday, October 20 2007, 04:01 pm

If pens were violins, yours would be a Stradivari.

This is even better than the original.
Both embody all of the finer elements of romance, i.e. strength, boldness, loyalty, selflessness, chivalry, altruism, and more.
The new one improves on the ending.
What is really miraculous is your selection and artful use of words and phrases to join these elements together, forming a beautiful story.
I have only briefly glanced at "Last Knight" so far. Your writes are worth taking the time to fully absorb. I've found that quickly scanning poetry can result in missing important elements which the writer has (often with great care) written into the poem. I shall comment on "Last Knight" after I have really read it.
"Red Tiger" burns through the darkness like the "Morning Star" after Decembers longest
night.
 
Name:                                           Remember Me

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