The River Pt. 3

Destiny, it seems
not always a glorious tale
not always an end we wish for
these thoughts rumbling through their heads
as they march through the muck and mire

The equipment, too heavy for this final leg
armors thrown off, shining in the marsh
swords and shields left to sink and melt
just a couple of average people
sick with pain and long overburned

Their resemblance to humanity fading
merely wild things of nature
forcing their way in a dark place
the snarls around them cannot deter them
they will not stop

Till at last in sight the goal of this terrible road
flowing wide and long in a land of desolation
the black river
its sight brings the chills
its sounds brings the sickness

Trudging forward upon its banks of hatred
they stare out upon the ghastly current
as their quest begins to convene
as their paths begin to converge
everything will come together quickly

Outstretching their hands over the chaos
an incredible white glow rocks the everblack night
suddenly, the scene is brilliant and quiet
as the cries of creatures nearby grow frantic
and are suddenly silenced

The moment has come
all courage required
as the opposition rallies its force
to overtake the rising white tide
and the two steady their hearts

Quietly, walking through the dazzling light
comes a man dressed in the drab of the river
his face blank, his stride confident
a devious look in his eyes
coming for the two men of light

The opponent has come
a weapon of a man, large and muscular
grinning snidely at the light
stretching his fingers out violently
as the young man turns to face him

The young man has no weapons
and neither does his opponent
for there by the river a fight will be given
to determine the future
to determine the fates

The young man will buy his companion the time
as he continues to blast the dark with all his remaining might
as evil meets determination
and the two become locked
in a hand to hand combat

The young man has lost much of his energy
his body even now is failing as the two opponents face off
one, a terrible mountain of strength
the other, a valiant on his last legs
blows quickly become blood

A boxing match unlike the world has seen
as the young man delivers the best he has left
an incredible blow to crack the ribs of an ordinary man
but this evil is much stronger
as he smashes the face of the young man with a hook like a hurricane

Clearly outmatched
the young man has not strength of his foe
perhaps not even the cunning
but the very definition of tough
he takes each blow, worse than the last

Badly bruised, badly bloodied
one eye barely opening and red
bones, clearly broken from the pain
but still he stands
still he fights

His foe, now the desperation sinking in
becoming increasingly harried in his strikes
determined to sink this peasant quickly
has found a match not like the others
a rough, lowly hero who cannot be beaten

Blows exchanged,
each cracking the jaws of the other
but the young man spits the blood out
and still he stands, fists flying
from a body that should long have passed

There, in the forgotten lands
miles away from the comforts of home
in the wilds of nature, amongst the violence of evil
the river's tide was stemmed
and the light swallowed the darkness one more time

Later, when the tale is told
of the two that left to save us all
little will be known of their terrible journey
little will be known of the pain, the heartache, and the sacrifice
those that fell along the way, long forgotten

But what of the heroes of our grand story
what reward for their valiance?
you will hear rumors and stories great
but alas nary a soul who knows for sure
for they were not seen as they once were

Perhaps the fight is never quite over
one epic struggle to another
perhaps you may see them far off again
the two white knights of legend
ordinary men of determination

Far greater heroes than when they once set out
I think perhaps they are still out there
When needed, they will come again

the white knight Lance
and his companion Joshua