Monday, November 12, 2007

White Knight

She's in no need of saving.
If you were capable of it, it's far too late now.
It angers her that you've ridden into town in tarnished armor, thrusting
a wooden sword and atop of a flea bitten nag.
Your face guard is slipping.
It's a waste of her time, you know.
If only you could have suited up years ago.
She suspects you're here out of guilt and not because of your honor-bound
duty.
I think she might be right.