Time and again I have thrown myself from the tower top, and time and again 'tis the knave which passes and I must gather my skirts and tend my wounds and climb wearily once again to the tower.
Would that the tower be closer to the ground and the Knight not be so blind to my plight.
I scream from the tower 'ere to catch his attention, but the wind no doubt from the west doth steal my sound. Surely he must hear me? Surely he must know the desperation which clutches at my heart and makes my head to bow under its heinous weight?
Come, again to throw ourself out. The wounds hithertofore were a mere trial, this time, for sooth, I will be rescued.
"Be careful damsel, the more often you fall and are wounded, the more you wouldst have nought but a wounded damsel to offer to the Knight which does stop and look to gather you. Is it fair and good that you wound yourself o'er those who but ride away with bits of your flesh upon their sword? Take heed and care thee well Lady Judy. The hem of your gown is worthy of more than these. If a knight would see and dismiss, surely he is no Knight at all."
~2001~
