Chivalry

Chivalry

Chivalry
The title screams
As though telling you what to think
About the man in silver metal
And the drawn sword held in his hand

Over his conquered enemy,
His foot at his throat
While the maiden hides behind a tree
Afraid, and loosely clothed,

Someone tried to deal harshly with her,
With her gown’s neck stretched and torn,
But is it the man who’s on the ground,
Or the one who looks down at him in scorn?

The red streaming fabric from behind the maiden’s back,
Hidden some from view, its color calling to the eye,
Condemn her not to be the pure fine damsel in distress
Red as crimson, partially naked from the duress

Is this some knight’s debaucherous fight
Over a prostitute with whom they’ve each spent a night?

The dying light in the painting,
The fear in her eyes,
The anger filling the visage of his face:
“Chivalrous” villain in disguise?