The Legend of the Templars
Once in a holy war
Two monks did fight.
Such was their prowess,
They were called, Sir Knight.
One horse had they,
Such did they own
No money, nor power
No meat, just a bone.
Sword by their side,
A bible in hand,
To battle they went
For the Holy Land.
These past knights of old,
The crusade done,
Continued to protect
The land that was won.
Within a while
Their fame did grow
Yet the Moslems were still
Their only foe.
Throughout all the world
The Order grew.
Their members no longer
Numbered only a few.
Whispers of magic
And dark, bloody rites,
Performed by the Order
On unholy nights.
Such tales as these,
Were spread by a king,
On each of his fingers,
A solid gold ring.
A plan did he lay,
To dissolve the Order.
Their money he would take,
And count like a hoarder.
One day cold and dark,
His plan came to pass.
The knights were captured
And the world sighed “Alas!”
Yea, for when the king,
Did come to take
The Holy treasure
For his own greed’s sake
Naught did he find.
For it was gone,
Yea, far far away,
Where a beggar gazes upon,
One white horse,
On which two monks ride past.
Their ship awaits them
With a golden mast.
Away the ship sails,
Treasure in hold.
Never to be seen
But in the legends of old.