Lover of my Heart and Soul

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A Prince and his lady fall victim to an evil Prince.
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PickFiction
PickFiction
1,427 Followers

O lover of my heart and soul, my liege and gentle lord,
Protector of all that I am, with lance and flashing sword,
Be there for me as season’s change and warmth begins to fade,
When colors fill the tranquil hills and sweep ‘cross mountain glades.

When winter’s frosts and blowing snows attack the castle walls,
When king and queen and princess too are bundled up in shawls,
When fireplace glows with blazing logs, and all folk huddle near,
I know my liege will rescue me, if I but persevere.

The vainly evil Danarick, a prince of ill repute,
While seeming quite resplendent is a vile and churlish brute.
He eyes me ‘cross the banquet hall, a smirk contorts his face.
Defiant, I’m defenseless at this ultimate disgrace.

I cringe and shiver at the thought of Danarick’s caress,
And pray that he fall ‘neath the spell of maddened sorceress,
Thus being changed into a frog, a spider or a newt,
Assignment to a swamp or bog befits this princely brute.

But in the musty dungeon deep beneath the castle’s floor,
My lord and liege, imprisoned there by his progenitor,
The very king that he did serve and father he did love
Who drinks a toast to wedded bliss in banquet hall above.

The wedded bliss he toasts tonight is not a love bourne match,
He schemes behind the lover’s backs, his evil plot to hatch.
He smiles again at Danarick, who cares not how or why
That I become his captive bride before the dawn draws nigh.

The dank and dripping dungeon walls surround he that I know
Would sweep me up o’er flying hooves to flee our hated foe
Who seeks my hand for lech’rous deeds ‘midst king’s unseemly dreams –
A shiver shakes my ravaged soul and stills its stifled screams.

Oh God in heaven hear me please, for I want not this pain,
And free me from the yoke that waits, lest he be Abel’s Cain.
Let walls be gone and knights be blind, and darkness breed disguise,
May he who loves my heart and soul appear before sunrise.

Oh had I but a wishing well, or Merlin at my hand,
Perhaps the fabled Lancelot who’d move to my command.
If magical Excalibur were mine to use and give,
I’d use it on the prince and king, so my dear prince might live.

His name I cherish like naught else, my heart warms at its sound,
Kieran Quentin, the Golden Rock, may he be one day crowned,
His kingly reign the future’s hope, and I his faithful queen,
Alas, tonight, the dream may die ‘less fate should intervene.

The warder’s rounds are chilled and late, he stops by tight closed door,
And peering through a tiny crack he sees there on the floor
A crumpled mass, those clothes he knows, he’s filled with sudden dread,
If mal should come to Keiran here, the king will have his head.

The bolt thrown back, the door flung wide, he dashes in to see
What detriment befalls the prince, he crouches on one knee.
A blinding blur of naked man, a thump and then a moan,
Our warder’s resting on the floor, while Kieran holds the stone.

The clothing there so caref’ly piled, deceiving warder’s glance,
Has given young Prince Kieran now a needed second chance.
He’s quickly dressed and rushes out, his mind is fixed and set,
But there against the cold stone wall, he spies a silhouette.

The shadow seen there he knows well, it fills the narrow hall.
Resentment reigns in Kieran’s heart, he’s flat against the wall.
With fists hard clenched and grinding teeth, his face glows red as fire,
A blow well struck, the dungeon holds a now unconscious squire.

A glow’ring prince ascends the stair, just one thought on his mind,
To seek she who has filled his thoughts, and then somehow to find
The father who betrays the trust, that only sons may hold,
For want of power and of land, integrity is sold.

Behind the fluted column hides he now while deep in thought,
How to foil the evil plans that they may come to naught,
And how to have the maiden who’s the victim of the schemes,
And caught up in the agonies of these nightmarish dreams.

A pause before the action starts, and then he charges in,
And dastardly Prince Danarick is caught in coward’s skin.
He cringes as Prince Kieran glares, the King’s mouth opens wide,
Neither knows just what to do, they stand there stupified.

Then suddenly it’s made quite plain, the picture clear and bright,
And all the guests now understand that things will change tonight.
A kingly glow surrounds the prince, he holds the lady’s hand,
The nodding heads of dukes and lords tells all they understand.

The king now sees foreboding words appearing on the wall,
And all the folk here gathered in the now quite silent hall,
In unison point fingers at the king who eyes grow wide;
Alone he stands with Danarick who’s huddled by his side.

My father’s son is cringing there and wonders at his fate,
While I the king’s betrayed offspring, have cause to celebrate.
This princess whose hand I now hold is trembling and unsure,
For faithless cads had schemed the worst, a foul investiture.

The lady’s troth was pledged to one by father’s dying word,
His faith won o’er by Kieran’s pledge, the kingdom stayed secured.
But greed and envy intervened, the king destroyed the plan.
Accusing eyes now stare him down, a beaten bitter man.

O lover of my heart and soul, my liege and gentle lord,
Protector of all that I am, my mate and my reward.
Be there for me as seasons change and warmth begins to fade,
For in your arms and in your heart is where I’m not afraid.

The kingdoms now we’ll rule as one, as queen and you as king.
The king is dead, long live the king, the people shout and sing.
Displaced, deposed, by needless greed, the bald and crownless head
Forlornly faces his demise, for Danarick has fled.

Ambition is a noble trait but greed was cast in hell,
The latter leads a man to fall, the former to excel.
My Kieran leads as all kings should, with grace and not the sword,
The lover of our hearts and souls, our liege and gentle lord.

PickFiction
PickFiction
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4 Comments
AutistAdventurerAutistAdventureralmost 4 years ago
Indeed,

I shouldn't but I will - you misused liege. :) Damned poets.

MsCherylTerraMsCherylTerraalmost 4 years ago

Lovely <3 you have a wonderful way with words!

Bebop3Bebop3almost 4 years ago

Excellent job, Mr. Fiction. Poetry isn't in my wheelhouse. I wish it was.