The days of old
I am not referring to the days
When you were a toddler, busy at play
Farther back then the many years spent in search for gold
I am speaking of the great days of old

The king ruling his court of men
A round table, knights are many more than ten
All with different and unique stories to tell
Fighting a curse or a magic spell
There are many more than the ones we remember
Ones that may have been burned in a great dragon’s embers

Ones besides Arthur of great Camelot
Other than the well-known knight Lancelot
Many more than Richard the Lion heart
Or the bravest of brave Joan of Arc

A Knight unnamed is humble
And with many boulders in the path, many struggles
He fights for his king and freedom
Hand in hand fighting for his kingdom

Dying in battle and yet
All we know it that the battle was offset
One winner one loser on horseback they go
Them and their foe

Gone separate ways
Different fates ablaze
Honored or shamed
Loved or blamed

And still there are those who remain unnamed
Unashamed

They could teach a lesson to us all
A lesson to all big and small
You’ll never be forgotten
You will be in every blossom
Every rock and stream will whisper your name
So what if some have fame

Babbling brooks and the honey bees
The smallest of rocks and the tallest of trees
The breezes and hurricanes
Fires, fish, and the rustling sugar canes

They all know your name
Maybe not in fame
But in glory, they are
Shining up to the brightest star
And down to the deepest depth of the ocean

The knights are remembered if not by name
The miners and the untamed
Even you will be remembered when this story is told again

When these days are the days of old
Everyone has no need for gold
And the knights will be nothing but a story
Which path will you chose the one with fame or the one with eternal glory