Steel-clad knight armed with naught
But his words and rope pulled taught
Around his bad where his heart dwells,
Waiting to be delivered to the shells.
Broken shells lining the shore
Picking them up, fixing them,
Looking around for ever more.
Waiting, waiting for his gem.
He hears the soft crunch of fine sand
Growing gradually but still he stands,
Knowing that she would stand beside him.
And stood she did, seeing the world's rim.
The daylight bounced on the sea.
"I'm sorry that I'm so late."
He turned to her, and her to he.
"Don't worry, I will always wait."