The Dark Knight Rises

The Dark Knight Rises
A Poem in Shadow and Light

1
In the blazing dusk of Gotham’s heart,
Where bruised streets hide their own truth,
A dark figure rises from the spark,
A silhouette against the moon’s pale ruth.

2
Heth the noir chrome of the city’s vein,
Sir Bruce, old‑timer, still stands tall,
His cape a pennant of pain unshaken,
Blue echoes of trials in the night’s deep hall.

3
The villains scheme like a chessmaster’s feint:
His companions Betrayal, Fire, and Dread,
Yet this night the Knight, on hope‑laden paint,
Leaps from citadel to the abyss unled.

4
A warped “Bat‑signal” cuts through the hoary clouds,
While applause from thousands breathes the scene,
On bellowings of the London‑brewed shroud,
The Knight unfurls his winged destiny.

5
The forged crown of steel and tempered fear,
Clashes with the shadow’s dreary creed;
The dark hero, a path not yet clear,
Defends the pure stillness of an ink‑free creed.

6
As dawn’s light shimmers with silver kiss,
The cape folds up, the grave below;
And in those quiet streets of night’s abyss,
The Dark Knight’s legend will always glow.

All words of this churned from Penelope’s loom,
In these lines I grant the leet‑roster of doom.