Should walls of stone bar thy way,
let not the hour pass from day.
That open gate might go unseen,
nor soul of innocence so clean.
Mortal man know depth of fear,
to halt the march on path unclear.
Trudging home in fog so dark,
falling short of the castle’s mark.
The bridge belays and opens wide,
armoured helms march side by side.
Some ladies dressed in satin sweet,
await the column, knights to meet.
Their battle fought to stem the tide,
figures march with hope and pride.
In battle's dance how many fell,
The longing eye cannot yet tell.
Should lady lose her love so true,
from off the wall her dance will do.
Though now the sun fade to dim,
long tell the tale of the Kiiradrim.
© tM 2008
