One day, a wise old sage did say, "Your armor's rusty, your heart's astray." The knight looked down, and for the first time, Saw the reflection of his own decline.
But time went by, and wars did cease, The knight's armor began to freeze. The luster faded, the metal wore thin, And with it, his heart began to give in.
He locked himself in his castle tall, Afraid to face the world's loud call. The armor, once a symbol of his might, Became a prison, a constant fight.
He realized that true strength lies not, In the metal that encases his thought, But in the heart that beats with love and light, A heart that guides him through the dark of night.
In a land of valor and chivalry, A knight once shone with honor and glory. His armor polished, his heart aflame, He charged into battles, his name.
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The rusty armor, once a heavy weight, Became a reminder of his own fate. A lesson learned, a story told, Of a hero's journey, to a heart of gold.
With newfound awareness, he took a stand, And slowly, began to remove the hand. That held the armor, the symbol of his past, And let his true self shine, at last.