Knuckles white as he grips his sword
A layer of rust left by time
The young knight takes a step
Upon the warrior path
Alone within the forest
To stand against the shadows
No protection from the shadows
He depends only on his sword
To see him through the forest
Where none have a sense of time
Each wandering a lonely path
That crumbles at each step
With courage in every step
The knight plunges into shadows
Defeating all that block his path
With his rusty sword
That is a victim of time
Finding new life in the forest
The knight tires of the forest
Entering the mountains with a step
Covering the distance in little time
In pursuit of the shadows
That fear his treasured sword
Forging his knightly path
Master of darkness rules the path
That winds back to the forest
Trapping the one with rusty sword
Refusing to let him stray a step
Bombarding the knight with shadows
That fall to his flails every time
The knight decides it’s time
To reach the end of his path
And pierce the eternal shadows
Bringing peace to the forest
His adventure’s final step
And the slumber of his rusty sword





I had to look up sestina! Great job, Charles!
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Thanks. It’s a tough poetry style and it took me a year to remember what it was called.
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