My Sleeping Beauty

Upon her bed, sleeps my queen
her eyes don't flutter, her lips not parted,
she gives Death an invitation through her sweaty sheen
that gathers on her forehead.
I kneel beside her, my eyes blurry and painful
as I hold back the sobs that threaten harshly
in the back of my throat; I hang my head, shameful,
for my kiss could not resurrect her from her slumber's keep
how could I be the knight I am so called
if I don't possess the power, the sublime capability,
to save my Juliet, my princess, my queen, from her fall
into darkness' alluring beckon; my sleeping beauty,
I beg upon my armored knees for a sign
that I am her true love
for days I've tiringly, uselessly, sadly tried
to kiss my princess, to wake her from
this deadly slumber; in a dream, I'd taken her hand
within my own, her lips awaiting mine,
and I kissed hers, she had awakened, her smile grand,
but it was merely a dream, and I've been waiting for some time.
The sun is fading upon us, my sleeping beauty and me,
and I've grown weary of myself, weary of us as lovers,
were we truly meant to be,
or was her father, her mother, everyone together,
right when they said we'd die alone if we continued our love affair?
I try one last time, tears rolling upon my trembling lips,
and place one last heart aching kiss...
her eyes flutter, they open finally
she smiles and says, "I've been waiting for you to realize
that you are my knight, and I your sleeping beauty,"
I smile back, "now I only need to make you my wife."