Crimson Knight ~ One

Crimson Knight

One

She is shadow that knows no form
That slinks throughout our midst
With feather touch, our secrets known
Like the silver knife that twists

Eyes of violet discern the truth
When words won't form to say
Lips of rose breathe life renewed
To souls that died this day.

Skin, so soft, of Milken wash
Smooth, but hard as steel
Raven hair trails down her back
A menace upon reveal.

She walks the night with head held high
For fear she has never known
Through city streets and countries meek
What she touches she then owns

A dancer between the worlds is she
The wearer of the veil
Secret knowledge is her key
The hammer to her nail

The truth she carries beyond our faiths
The history of worlds
The hurt, the pain, the love, the hate
She is not a mortal girl

Warrior princess, she picks no team
For reason is her tool
Demons worship at her feet
And angels are her fools

Into our time she has been cast
To fight her greatest fight
And at the ready, her minions cry
Their allegiance to Crimson Knight
~Natasha Head~

Comments

Pat Hatt said…
wow nicely done, I really like how you put a story into your poems, really sucks you in and makes you want to read it that much more. Of course the first thing that popped into my head with the warrior princes remark was Xena..lol..you know you watch to much tv when..haha

Oh and First First, Brian is Worst
Brian Miller said…
nice...i like this...sounds of a rather strong woman...are you going to continue this? has a great fantasy bend to it...
Anonymous said…
I like this, Natasha, and look forward to two. There is a lovely flow to the words.
Anonymous said…
I think you know I'm a fan of multi-part poems, so I can't wait to see the rest of CK! This is a grand march overture with your shadow warrior princess as the harbinger of something fantastic to come. Your language is so velvet myth rich and your words so rightly chosen I want to discuss and linger over each one in turn. For your princess, I love how you've made her both a negative thing between worlds as well as an an embodiment of many of our harder emotions which gives her more real presence, reality erupting into fantasy. At the end of the poem, I've no idea who the Crimson Knight is, but I'm dying to know. Lastly, your Warrior Princess feels like someone I've seen in my own dreams and I suspect that makes me a minion or something like that, too. Fantastic!

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