The Knight in Shining Armor

I break my fast and rush to the armory to equip myself

I don shining chainmail, gauntlets, helm, and greaves

I spy my holiest of swords, hanging on a nearby shelf

So I take it and slip it noiselessly into my waiting sheath

Last I see, just sitting there, a shield as lovely as it is rare

It’s the shield I’ve forged through many long battles

Though the once shiny surface will now not show glare

The shield is sadly now cracked with barbs on its handle

The shield that I wield is akin to a rose with its thorns

Though it is sweet to behold, it grows bitter with touch

The shield, it will no longer do and my hands it has torn

Perhaps it is time to finally stop using it like a crutch

My sword is now blunt and has been worn to the hilt

I wash my face and see eyes as dull as the edges now are

I must learn to sharpen with resolve instead of guilt

Lest I wake from my nightmare to find the battle too far

I wrestle with morals as with the life and death of men

For in saving the innocent I do so condemn us to fall

Into a life of passing moments that we try to live again

For a knight in shining armor, the princess is his all