.The Song of Aranthin and Gylderel
There once was in this fertile land,
a noble and his steed.
For the realm and for the king,
they did this valorous deed.
The steed was not a normal horse,
but a Gryphon, plumed in gold.
And of his splendour many tales
have far and wide be told.
The noble's name was Aranthin,
his house was Lionel
The Gryphon, for his feathers' shine
had been called Gylderel
They ranged across the whole wide land,
from mountains to the sea.
And everywhere Aranthim went,
justice would then be.
One day they flew the borderline,
the peace they did not trust.
They spotted many soldiers there,
armed, in numbers vast.
"Make haste, oh mighty Gylderel.
We must alert our liege!
Our enemy has come in arms,
to put us under siege!"
They took the swiftest route they could,
to rest they did not dare.
To raise the call, alert the king,
no time they had to spare.
But suddenly, on fiery wings,
a Phoenix came and roared!
The two of them, unwittingly,
had stumbled on its hoard.
The Phoenix clashed with Gylderel,
burning the golden coat.
Aranthin drew his sword to strike
the Phoenix in its throat.
Held by their dead opponent's claws,
they followed in its fall.
Near the ground the Gryphon gave
his final, desperate call.
Thrown from the saddle, Aranthim
was tossed upon his back.
His head he struck, he could not rise,
his vision turned to black.
When back he came, to consciousness,
he rose, it took some will.
His gaze fell on his Gryphon steed,
lying unmoving, still.
"Oh Gylderel, my trusted steed,
stand up, oh best of friends!"
But alas, noble Gylderel
had met his final end.
"I must leave you lying here,
and go to warn the king!
For time is dear now that I lack
the swiftness of your wing!"
On his feet he travelled on,
although severely hurt.
He did not stop, till finally,
he reached his liege's court.
"Invasion, lord!" the noble said,
"coming from the east!
An army, vast and powerful,
contained of man and beast!"
The warning heard, he fell to ground,
he drew a rattled breath.
And in the arms of lord and king,
he succumbed to death.
The foe repelled, the realm secure,
there was by king decreed.
the greatest statue possible,
for Aranthin, and his steed.
i like it 
Thank You for the Christmas Presents