Beyond the passing of solstice light

Where leaves descend to their colored fate

A deep chill rises in the early night

And humidity returns to the silent grave.

A lone knight traveled through the colorful leaves

His ebon armor glistening under Selene's crescent rays

A solemn youth plagued by disease

Reaching the end of his living days.

Upon the casket of leaves the knight hath slumped

Removing his helm in struggle to breathe

Away he tossed it to the forest dump

And watched the sky on a cold Hallow's Eve.

Somber was his life, all neglected and alone

Ignored and feared this chivalrous soul

For no demoiselle hath desired to warm his bones

Or to fill the void of this knight whole.

Before the glistening moonlight, a shadow emerged

The knight saw its eyes in a viridian glow

Thinking it was death on purge

Awaiting the reaper's killing blow.

Instead of death, there stood a lady of fairness

Freckles 'pon her face and auburn of hair

Whose beauty drew the knight with welcoming radiance

And brought fresh hope into the lifeless air.

Before the knight she knelt

The moonlight's shine she finally broke

A sorrow in his eyes she felt

And with welcomeness she spoke:

"Why looks my knight so ghastly in pain,

Whose face is as pale as the solstice snow?

Speak to me, oh gallant one of solemn reign

Whose armor meshes with thy tenebrous soul."

"Oh, beloved demoiselle! How my heart has been struck a smart,

For love and honor has not been granted to me

With elegance I've performed in the knightly art

Declined by countless dames to become mon amie.

A virgin knight I've been dubbed by the silvered sage

Wishing upon me a death so ominous

That in this grave, 'Cthonelujah!' I loudly prayed,

Awaiting to drift beneath the marées of Cocytus."

"Oh ebon knight, why dost thou speak of such neglection?

Why dost thou craveth the wretched Abyss?

Hast thou not been extolled with dulcet affection?

Hast thou tasted not the lips of a gentle kiss?"

"Beloved demoiselle, a dreary fate, this melancholic onslaught

I succeeded Percival in a tourney joust

Within the lofty courts of Camelot

Only to suffer King Arthur's oust.

"I say onto thee, that I know not love

And I know not the touch of a gentle caress

Save for the welcomes of the singing dove

But now I long for the eternal rest.

No lauds I bear from the common folk

And no admiration from my fellow chevaliers

My ebony armor a towering bulk

Mesh with me her gothic despair."

"Oh ebon knight, 'tis a horrid fate

Oh ebon knight, 'tis a lonely path

Thou hath known only hate

And suffered its uncanny wrath.

Your heroic deeds I hath known

Shall blessed thee by the stars above

Never shalt thy death be alone

For only I have granted thee my love."

Upon his lips was her serene taste

A ruby kiss for his soon-departing core

"La Belle Dame de l'Automne," he whispered in his haste

Before he was still, becoming peacefully no more.

Stripped of existence, his life of gloom

In Elysium shall he find peace

May he sleep forever in this splendid tomb

Buried beneath beloved Autumn's leaves.