They huddled behind the battlements
when they arrived.
Huge metallic spiders that spat
nothing but death.

No one knew where they came from.
Now they were here.
Advancing from the station,
shattering the bridge.

Cars exploded as Prince of Wales rd
took the brunt of their onslaught.
Panicking populace on the move.
The spiders moved closer.

The Bell hotel went up in
flames of orange, some drinkers
preferring to fry than flee.
The crazy ones.

Upon the battlements they watched.
“To the armoury,” the cry went.
They dashed, searched, found the
silver suit.

“Put the damn thing on!”
It slipped on easily enough.
A tight fit for one so wide.
Clanking to the battlements it went.

The spiders advanced to Castle Mall.
Vaporising as they went.
Buses, shops, a cat or two gone
forever.

They advanced towards the castle wall,
across that bridge over the moat.
The knight stood waiting.
Even as death rays raked the fleeing.

“I’m here,” he shouted through
the mad din.
Spiders watched and fired again.
Lethal bolts struck, one, two, three.

The knight remained standing.
The spiders below in flames.
Their bolts reflected.
The group cheered.

He clanked down from the wall,
moving beyond.
Another bolt struck, the spider
annihilated.

The knight advanced slowly,
painfully to the shattered road.
The spiders regrouped as he
advanced.

Bolts tore the broken road,
he carried on.
The spiders turned then
and fled.

The knight vanished too.
His identity unknown.
Those on the battlements
knew him not.

Today, within the sand blasted
castle, the knight still stands.
It stands as a monument,
to when the knight saved the world.