/lit/ - Literature

Just looking for any criticism.

The Golden Rider charged, red bases flitting,
Lance couched in targe, on tall saddle - sitting.
Eyes ablaze with fervour, wide open for the assault,
Unlike stoics moreover, whom deny passion's result.

The wyrm emerged from its lair, drawn out to The Rider's challenge,
Bony detritus of evident crime, empty of marrow which beast enamoured.
Forked tongue and fangs to bare, and against steel-tipped phalange,
A carapace slicked with slime, though neither verdigrised nor enameled.

The princess knelt in awed prayer, consoling the lamb leashed to her
From that scene at which she stare - the wrath of her beseeched savior.

The Golden Rider charged, slimy faulds splitting,
As stallion's hooves barged, at The Rider's bidding.
Escape no longer a choice, though try as the beast may;
A desperate cry it did voice, not enough - to be kept at bay.

The wyrm having ceased despair, met The Rider's gaze - to avenge,
With fangs bared in mocking grin, grasped lance with claw and clamoured.
This mortal wound of the affair drove into the beast a steel lozenge,
Which then released its final din, a breath ablaze with embers englamoured.

As shaft came loose of its furled grip, serpent's deflated head lolled,
Releasing thick, vile fluid from its lip, and down its chin it rolled.