I met her in my sleep last night,
And it was awkward, like in life.
Her arm was parcelled by a curse
And I hated him at once
Though I hid it well.

I was a king on a throne,
Brooding over battle
And my armour fitted poorly,
A matter which she noticed
And pointed out.

She asked me whom I was fighting,
Smiling as she did.
And I looked down, amazed
That she could be so bold.
She readied herself.

I drew my own weapon,
Distance in my fist
And fought her smile,
While her 'friend' looked on.
She laughed and it rattled me.

There I lay,
Distance brought down and shattered
And there she was,
Above me,
Her smile the only weapon she needed...