I am a maiden upon a treacherous path
searching in earnest for my knight
I seek not shinning silver armour, that glistens in the sun
nor glorious stallions, in all their vivacious gallop to victory
I await a different kind of mine.
who upon his war torn steed, mounts
with his battered armour proudly endowed.
I seek a soul like me,
whose pieces of broken armour
like my broken existence
he shall mend, and I him mend.
and there upon the toil of love
so imperfect by human eye
made perfect in loves sight
our mediocrity transformed to a beauty beyond
and every wishing heart's desire, granted
for none but to be held,
in all its doubtable grandeur
by one who truly perceives the invisible sparkle of perfection.
seen only through loves eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem