The Lady's Change - A Ballad

By: Kitarel Posted on: May 17, 2012

The very ground did shake and roar

Beneath the wooden stands.

Ten or twenty armoured men

Raised their mailed hands.

The trumpets sounded right and true
The horses pawed the ground.
Their helmeted heads glanced left and right
A sight to most that would astound.

I raised a pretty little hand
To yawn with great disdain.
My kohl framed eyes did roll
And I quietly prayed for rain.

Another joust, another rumble,
Another wasted day.
I'd surely rather be sewing a shift
Or drowning in the bay.

A mighty shout did shake the lands

I didn't even glance.

A scream of fury and then a sob

As another impaled upon a lance.

The sight of blood to some would cause
The stomach to flip and churn.
But this is just another lady's boring day
That every man did yearn.

Another man tossed from his horse
Another fatal stab.
They say a lady's life is dull
But I insist death is just as drab.

My father hooted and guffawed,
His fat belly shaking with his mirth.
Last man standing would drown in gold
But I'd prefer the firth.

Another head rolls passed my feet

And I in turn do roll my eyes.

No sonnet or great ballad

Justifies who dies.

Just then a man dressed all in blue
Arrived upon his horse.
He bowed low before the stands.
And my heart filled with remorse.

This man who was once a boy
Insisted upon my hand.
And I did spurn the child away
But still before me he now stands.

"Idiot child," I raised my voice
To ring across the fields.
"To die now would not cause
This selfish heart to feel."

He grinned at me, with azure eyes

And I betrayed my inner thought.

"No!" I cried and lunged ahead

My voice pitched and distraught.

"Silly girl," my father said
"A man's place is sword in hand.
Go back to your knitting needles
"Before I reprimand."

I turned myself in a flurry of silks,
To face the man who was the king.
"I've never seen you fight before,
You horrid, bloated thing."

He raised one meaty fist
Above his balding head.
Called for his sword and shield
His boots and cloak of red.

I turned to pull the mighty sword

From my blue knight's side.

Holding it with two hands

Prepared to kill or die.

"Little doll you should sit down,
Your wrists are delicate and small.
I should never forgive myself
If you should twist your ankle and fall."

I cast a glance of pure disdain
And stepped forward with a jab
The mighty sword bit into flesh
The meaty neck sucked in, a bloody grab.

I tossed the sword to the knight in blue
And took up a fine brush.
Upon the ground I sketched in red
Met by the licking flames to destruct.

The world around we rumbled and shook

The king's men fell to their knees

But still my inks turned paste to blood

Cruelty hears naught their pleas.

A strike to each arm and two to the legs
The champion did fall.
A crippled mess upon the dirt
Blood, sinew, bones, tears and all.

Tossing down his gauntlets,
A single hand did touch.
A smaller man who came at me
His limbs all simply crushed.

The fire alight in my blue knight's eyes
He raised one mighty fist.
And in an instant, not one more
Their limbs crumbled and did twist.

With a crackle of dark energy

And a wicked little smile

My Blue Knight turned a shade of black

In an instant the ground defiled.

A gentle stroke across his chest
The splitting of his bones.
His ribcage burst from his chest
Met by screams and moans.

In the end he stepped away,
This man impaled upon his spine.
And to my great surprise
The first time in my life; I smiled.