In her abode,she sat,on the little throne..
As her helping aids started moving around..
And somewhere he stood,worn from wars..
Wondering how their life would be..
Little princesses of kingdoms,some valiant,some sweet,some kind,some bitter..
A journey,of fate..
The walls of palaces were high..
But walls of hearts are higher..
Each step laden with thorns, treacherous and painful..
But he must step on the burning coals,
The icy glares,the head held high .
The dance of pride and prejudice..
The warth of words..
The wounds of mockery..
He must tread through it all,
On a journey alone..
Why?
Because..
He loves..
