i write this little rhyme
of a long ago time
of lovely ladies and lordly lords
and knights with flashing silver swords
in it i am sir john
standing on a green lawn
expounding in a manner adroit
on my heroic exploits
to princesses enraptured
by my words they are captured
like myself they wish to flee
to a world of magic and mystery
eternally unsatisfied
from their own world they would hide
why does it distress them so?
where fo they wish to go?
and so i tell my tale
until the moon grows pale
and the princesses depart with sighs
no more enlightened, no more wise
i am no longer sir john
in the cold dawn
the dragons and ladies have departed
before the story even started
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