Upon the soaring wings of a flying beast
The knight landed on the vast tree-less plain
Sitting on his stout but elegant mount
He cautiously followed the narrow lane
He could see no one, and hear no sound
But he felt the savage gaze of a foe
Following his tail with every step
As if in the form of a black, grim crow
His mount, a creature unknown to many
strolled with pride, with its head held high
an ingenious blend of many beasts
Unrivalled on land, a lord of the sky
its strength surpassing a hundred steeds
its flight majestic, a glorious sight
with its black, crooked beak and sturdy paws
It spread fear when soaring in the height
An ancient lone-oak stood by the lane
providing a precious oasis of shade
And on its wizen bark one could see
strange carvings from the tip of a blade
“Now we shall rest here, under a treeâ€Â
Stated the pleased knight to his weary mount
And he retreated to the dark shades
that had saved him a bit of resting ground
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