The drapes of time hide the next stage:
Streets ringing with cries for justice.
Where mask’d daring doth thwart their rage,
Fate Trespasser demolishes.

Streets ringing with cries for justice,
Calling for the fall of the blade.
Money shall not shield the spineless—
Aristocrats will be unmade.

Where mask’d daring doth thwart their rage,
A flow’ry sign is left behind.
Freeing doomed nobles from their cage,
The wife alone sees through his blind.

Fate Trespasser demolishes,
By sentencing those who should live.
The end of revolt comes with swiftness,
The fault of His flawed incentive.

This is written in the structure of a Retourne, which is of French origin. {Don't know if anyone will get that, but maybe ; ) }
If there is anything I should change, let me know–there are a few lines I am not particularly happy with, and I'm more than willing to edit.

Argh this isn't as good as I'd have liked it to be but here it is anyway. Do let me know if there's anything I could change; I'd be happy to do so! : D

The Lady of Shalott, clue two, world two, part two

When silver gems bestrew’d the heavens,
When the evanescent light disappeared,
After the last blithe bird had sung its song,
Then did he appear.

His blade of sterling rang, a clarion call,
I caught a glimpse of his sparkling eyes,
And yet, and yet, I dared not budge
For fear that the casement
Should seal my doom.
—
He sat in a far corner, in tattered clothes,
And when at last he dared to speak,
He quoth,
“Ask not whence I’m from,
You need only know I was sent.”

Before a word escap’d my lips,
Before I could shriek, my lungs aflame,
He said,
“I was once imprisoned too.”

For six long years, he languished in goal,
For six long years, he starved and suffered,
Until at last a beacon took him by the hand,
And led him towards the light.

He said he’d free me, he said he’d help,
And by the light of the glimmering stars,
By the mirror, by the moon,
By my tapestry and my loom,
I let him.

He said t’was ignorance
That kept me confined,
He swore that knowledge would break my bounds.
And it did, in a manner.

He told me of hidden treasure
And far off isles.
With tears in his eyes,
He recounted the loss of a beloved friend.

When his world shattered
And the end seemed near,
When Fate’s shadows snatched
The one thing he held dear,
He took a leap of faith.

I told him of my sorrow,
My longing to explore
The outside world,
Barred from me forevermore.
I spoke of the illusions that littered my life,
Shadows of a different reality.

My fate was written in dust and stone
With iron hands,
Unchangeable, eternal.
I couldn’t question it, I dared not defy it.

—
When dawn’s rosy fingers brushed the sky,
When the lucent sun arose once more,
He said but three words,
“It is time.”

We were caressed by fresh breezes free,
The aurous woods swayed to heaven’s melody.
The stream chortled, its lilting chimes
Ringing through the azure skies.
—
Until things changed once more.
—
Fire consumed the magical woods,
Flaming hands burnt the heart of Camelot.
People screamed in the distance,
Flashing lances turned to ash.

Trees fell, streams dried up,
The sun, obscured by a veil of smoke,
Breezes choked, houses fell,
Destruction rang its fateful knell.

We rushed to safety,
But we needn’t have tried,
For, soon enough, the fire died.
Nothing remained but smoldering earth.
—
A voice called out from the leaden skies;
It quoth,
“You have defied your literary fate.
You always were to defy your curse,
But you weren’t to do it successfully.
Now that you have, there isn’t much we can do
But do literary justice in a different way.
Unless this hero, by your side
Finds the answers he seeks,
You are destined to live alone
Forevermore. “
—
He fell upon the darkened soil,
His eyes clouded by a watr’y veil,
He heaved deep breaths—I thought he’d sob,
But he only looked up and vowed to set things right.

What could I do?
What could I say
After having my life burnt away?
There was nothing to live for—
No thread, no loom, no mirror’d shadows,
No sense or purpose to drive me onward.
What had I to lose?

I stood there motionless
As scarves of fumes engulfed him,
Swearing, continually, to fix my fate.
—

* {redacted} sees himself as an agent of providence, and rescues the lady because he feels compelled to do so. This is in stark contrast with the fact that he's helping the lady defy her fate, if that makes any sense xD We mayn't have the time to explore this theme extensively but we could address the conflict between fate and free will in {redacted}'s quest for meaning.