My lips are lonely without thee dear knight
'Tis not thine enemy that I doth fear,
Whilst mine heart is weary by candlelight
Thy bones ache with each and every tear.
Without thee my moistened lips shall wither
Thus; a mere thorn without a crimson rose,
Henceforth, my beloved, do come hither
Before sweet petals of thy heart dost close.
My knight with sword, shining armour and blood
In pale moonlight my ears hearest thou cries,
Thee lips bid adieu, sweet kiss of rosebuds
Thou art now but a bright star in thine eyes.
Thy feathered quill upon red parchment stains,
Teardrops and blood ink flow whilst moonlight wanes.
©SyberRose