The Rusted Knight: Ten Poems of a Poor Lover (Poetry & Medium Book 1) chapter 2

 

The Rusted Knight: Ten Poems of a Poor Lover (Poetry & Medium Book 1) chapter 2

## Chapter 2: The Second Poem — The Silent Horse

**I. The Arrival of Rich Partner**

Ten camels came. Their bells made silver noise.

Rich Partner rode like kings among poor boys.

His cloak was ermine. Rings were on each thumb.

He smiled. The courtiers bowed. The guards stood dumb.

“I come,” he said, “to marry Medium.

I bring three chests of gold and a new heirloom —

A mirror from the east that tells no lies.”

The king applauded. Poetry’s heart dies.

**II. Medium Feels the Wrongness**

She sat on her silver chair. Her left hand twitched.

Something about this rich man made her itched

Beneath her skin. His voice was smooth as oil,

But his eyes were counting, not courting, her royal soil.

“Father,” she whispered, “let me wait a year.”

The king laughed. “Gold does not disappear.

This prince is wealth. The other one is rust.”

She looked for Poetry. Dust. Only dust.

**III. The Silent Horse**

Poetry owned one horse. No name. No neigh.

It stood in shadows. It had nothing to say.

For seven years, it carried him through mud,

Through wars he lost, through fields of failed blood.

That night, he knelt beside it in the stable.

“Old friend,” he said. “I am not able

To win her with a sword. But I can sing.

Tomorrow, I will give the rich prince a thing

He cannot buy: ten poems. And you, my horse,

Will stand here silent. That will be your force —

To witness. To remember. To not speak.

Because the poor must let the wealthy seem meek.”

**IV. The Second Poem — Written on a Bridle Strap**

*My horse knows the way to your window, not to the war.*

*His hooves have memorized the stones outside your door.*

*He never carried a lance. He never wore a plume.*

• He only carried me through the sorrow and the gloom*

*To stand beneath your balcony at three o’clock in spring,*

*When even the richest men are poor at listening.*

*So if you hear a hoof-fall soft as fallen ash,*

*That is my silent horse. That is my quiet dash*

*Toward a love that has no armor, no land, no king to please — *

*Just a horse who knows your window, and a heart down on its knees.*

**V. The Meeting in the Garden**

Rich Partner found Poetry by the rose hedge.

“You,” said the prince. “The one who lives on the edge

Of starvation. I heard you make rhymes.

I need ten love poems for wedding times.

Medium is strange. She wants ‘feeling,’ not gold.

Make me ten verses. Let my story be told

As if I wrote them. Hide behind the curtain.

Sing. I’ll move my lips. Of this be certain —

You will be paid.” Poetry bowed his head.

“I ask no gold,” he said. “Just let me stay instead

Behind the cloth. Let my voice reach her ears.

That is my price. Ten poems. Ten tears.”

**VI. The Father Watches**

Manager stood behind a column. Stone.

He saw his son. He heard the prince’s tone.

“This is my chance,” he whispered to his purse.

“If Poetry shames me, I will make it worse.

I will fire him. Not once. But poem by poem.

Ten chapters of dismissal. I will show him

That love is nothing. Numbers are the law.”

He touched his ledger. Smiled. And saw.

**VII. The Silent Horse Witnesses**

Back in the stable, the horse did not move.

But animals understand what words cannot prove.

It lowered its head. It breathed on the floor.

It remembered the boy who could not afford

A saddle, a blanket, a bridle of leather —

Only a whisper: *We will survive this weather.*

The horse closed its eyes. In the dark of the stall,

It saw a princess. It saw her fall

Not for a prince with camels and rings,

But for a poor man who sings.

**VIII. The Promise Before the Curtain**

That midnight, Poetry sat by the well.

He wrote the second poem. He could not tell

If Medium would hear his voice behind the cloth,

If she would know the rich man’s mouth was both

A liar and a thief. But he had to try.

“Tomorrow,” he said to the moon, “I die

Or live. There is no middle for the poor.

Either she knows my voice, or I close the door.”

He folded the bridle strap. He hid it inside

His shirt, next to his heart. And then he cried —

Not from sadness. From the terrible weight

Of loving someone when you have no estate.

**IX. The Closing of Chapter Two**

So ends the second chapter. The rich prince smiles.

The poor knight sharpens his voice for ten miles

Of verse. The silent horse stands in the straw.

Manager sharpens his ledger like a claw.

And Medium, asleep in her silver bed,

Dreams of a rusted shield and a horse’s head

Nuzzling her window at three in the dark.

Somewhere, a poor boy strikes a match. A spark.

The curtain waits. The ten poems are nearly done.

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