My Quest

A sweet dream script grown dusty,
Tucked between toy swords
And high school poetry:
A script without a stage,
A part without an actress,
Forgotten...

Until a moment's fancy
Belies the "wisdom" of age,
Revives the passion for the play,
And I see you are my Queen.
Only...

I have arrived too late;
I have imagined too much.
The auditions have commenced,
The King is cast,
And this crown belongs to another.

So I retrieve my sword,
Seeking audience with the Queen,
Begging a role in the fable;
I shall go where you send me,
Until my quest proves me worthy
Of a place at your table.