A beautiful piece of writing

A Passionate Knight By Tycatz

Author: Tycatz
Word Count: 358
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A

My knight is off to battle.
Oh! But to say that he is mine,
Is really to say that I am his,
That I have fallen
From the clouds which in I did reside,
To stand by him
And pray that I might be his angel.

Fallen though I am,
I carry with me still the light.
And as he enters the dark
To fight his demons
I hope only to shine for him
And assist in finding his way.

He wears his heavy armor,
So many pieces
Forged from the strongest of steels.
He carries his sword and shield
And wields them closely to his chest,
For above all he shall protect,
And he shall swiftly swing his blade,
Ridding himself of nightmares.

But should he falter,
Should his shield but crack
Or his sword slip from perfection,
If my knight, my beautiful knight
Should ever know defeat,
Whether it be great or small,
I would whisk to his side
And kiss his wounds again and again.

And when he hurts
Or when the wounds won’t cease their bleeding
I would but comfort him
And hold him and all his weight,
The weight of armor,
The weight of battles yet to come,
The weight of his troubles in my arms,
I give him no less than two shoulders
If he would only let his body weep.

For as he lays in his bed
Resting after many a fight,
I sit with him and hold his hand
And while he waits he whispers
Such sweet poetic words,
The passion that does emerge
When stripped of his guards
Is more radiant than the sun,
Yet tender as a loving mother
And while he sleeps his essence
Becomes my personal lullaby.

And when his wounds have healed
And his mind and body bear the scars
Of all that has ailed his heart,
I would look upon his face
Beneath the helmet he polishes so,
And I would but assure him
That those scars only make him shine.
That he would not be my knight
Without the marks that made him,
And he is all the more beautiful for it.