The Castle of Metus

In the forest of shadows, amidst the setting darkness,
A crumbling leaf echoes through the walls of fear.

As the horse hoofs dig a mark in the dirt,
The rain recedes into the shadows of draught.

A twig breaks, the crackling kindles a fire,
Drips the moist dew, as night hones the darkness.

An echo is heard, a low hum of sorrow,
The forest shrugs, a shiver runs down its spine.

The knight in clanging armour, raises his sword,
The knee buckles, a fall of the century ensues.

The dark night, clad in fear, raises its shield,
Against a sword sharpened to the grit of sorrow.

The knight fights the night, fear a fools bravado,
The clanging armour crashes again, shatter, the sound echoes.

A spear of nightmare, thrust deep into the flesh,
The knight raises his arm, the sleep is lost.

The clanging armour and silence of the shadows,
Clash into the night, as the castle of Metus trembles.

I fight myself, the shinning armoured knight,
I fight myself, the shadow donned night.

I fight, and rally to win the Castle of Metus.