Poor little lady so thin and weak
By hard times, her home grew bleak.
With empty hands and hungry days,
She chased a tale of gold-filled ways.
They said a dungeon rests afar,
With chests of gold and gems that shine.
Only a kind and steady heart
Could reach the end and cross the line.
So off she went with careful feet,
A small brown bag, two loaves to eat.
No sword, no guide, no heavy load,
Just hope to lead her down the road.
She walked through woods and hills and streams,
Her body tired, her mind in dreams.
By second dawn, her bread was gone,
Her legs were weak, yet still she moved.
She would turn, she would not flee,
For need had taught her bravery.
A crying willow bowed so low,
Its roots hid dark from those below.
She stepped inside, her sight was lost,
The ground gave way, she paid the cost.
She fell where light could never stay,
And fear wrapped tight around her way.
When she stood up, she was not alone.
A knight of iron, not flesh nor bone.
His armor bore a heavy past,
His eyes were old, his heart held fast.
She forgot the gold. She forgot the chest.
She felt his pain within her chest.
Not fear alone filled up her mind,
But sorrow deep and sharp and kind.
She spoke no lies, she raised no hand,
She only wished to understand.
And he, who feared the cruel men,
Saw in her eyes no harm, no sin.
They sat in dark and spoke with care,
Of lonely years, of broken prayers.
At last, when trust had found its place,
He led her through the cave’s deep space.
There lay the chest, so bright, so wide.
And then her goal came back inside.
The reason he had walked so far,
The wish to save her home from scar.
The knight just smiled, for he had known,
Her truth was clear in words unshown.
He filled her bag with gentle hands,
More gold than she had ever planned.
She asked him then to walk away,
To leave the dark, to see the day.
He shook his head, his fate still tied,
The cave, the oath, the years denied.
So she returned to those she knew,
Told them a truth both sad and true.
Not just of gold, but of a soul
Who guarded more than shining coal.
Her kin agreed, they chose to stay,
Near the willow, not far away.
A home was built where roots run deep,
Where sorrow learned at last to sleep.
The knight still guards, yet not alone,
For love now lives in stone and bone.
And though he cannot leave that place,
He found a friend, a home, a face.
