Fair Maiden with The Knight
Far in the distance
A shadow emerges from the trees
A man unlike the others she has seen
He wears no colors upon his back
He does not carry pens or scrolls
His armor shines like the sun itself
His sword rusted and worn
Wounds scar his crimson skin
He is weary yet strong

As the knight approaches she holds her breath
His tall stride matches the beat of the march
His armor outshines the sun, reflecting his heart
The sword loyal to its master, never faltering
His holds his head high with pride
Like a moral challenging a god

“May I rest here?” The knight asked the maiden
“I may have room to spare.” She replied with a smile
Amused he sits with her, stories of their pasts
Secrets that neither have told the world