There was a gallant knight,
Knight set forth on a quest,
quest in which he did vow,
vow that he would not rest.
Rest until he did find,
find his heart's true desire,
desire which drove him on,
on though his body tire,
tire of the yearning.
Yearning for love now lost.
Lost, never to be gained,
gained whatever the cost.
Cost for which he had paid.
Paid he surely had done.
Done as he had traveled,
traveled from sun to sun.
Sun which set many times,
times in which he had failed,
failed to find even one.
"One, not one even," he wailed.
Wailed, for each had a flaw.
Flaw, defined by his creed.
Creed that he would not change,
change, for he felt no need,
need that was unfulfilled,
unfulfilled in despair.
Despair rode with him home,
home to find solice there.
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Author Notes
This story was about someone who because of his standards never found his true love.
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