The Heart, The Sheath, The Dead, The Dark

Skies so bright,
a sun so cheery.
A wood so dark,
So dark and dreary.

A maiden fair,
with voice of gold.
A knight so brave,
so brave and bold.

She wept a tear,
he took her hand
and led her to a distant land.

He then turned back,
with a battle to fight,
to a wood of black,
and sun of light.

He fought the dark,
the evil, the dreary.
And then it engulfed him,
cold, and weary.

But our maiden had followed him,
against his wish,
and she kissed his dear lips,
and then swallowed a small, golden fish.

The maiden slept,
a cold, forever-sleep.
Our hero, the knight,
came to life, but could only weep.

Then the air around them
began to bubble and fizz.
And that which made the maiden live,
was now his.

He then drew out his dagger,
and sheathed it in his heart,
but so ends the captives of a dragon,
and the dead and the dark.