THE GOLDEN PALADIN
by Ronald "Modar" Knight
With tendrils of reddened clouds the day has dawned.
With golden gleam, the armour is donned.
With loving caress the sword is hung.
With effortless motion the pack is slung.
Randorelin has begun his day.
Kneeling with honor and pride in the dust.
Nary a dent, nor speck of rust.
He folds his hands in prayer upon his helm.
He calls upon his Lord in His Realm.
Randorelin follows the Way.
Devotions done, and answered truly.
He has asked for himself nothing unduly.
To aid others in need is always his task.
With this in mind he breaks his fast.
Randorelin brooks no delay.
Out to face the ones who would unto others harm.
He's a brave young man full of charm.
Fortified with the strength of his Lord.
He has the courage, when he must, to use his sword.
Randorelin knows where his duties lay.
And once the day is done and night has come
He can lay his head in peace, unlike some.
With righteous weariness and golden gleam
A world of goodness fills his dream.
Randorelin has lived another day.
©1998, 1999, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005,
2006, 2007 Ron Knight/Modar Neznanich
©2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014 Ron Knight/Modar Neznanich
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