My dearest Prince Charming, am I being stood up?
It's starting to look like you'll never show up.

There's thoughts in my head that are hard to ignore;
Like you showing up to another front door.

Maybe you're hurt, bleeding out on the ground,
Or worse - you've decided to just turn around.

Your horse will not ride, it's dying of hunger,
Or maybe you've met someone else that is younger.

I wish you would send me your current location,
I'd order a faster mode of transportation.

And if you're asleep in the shades of a tree,
I hope that you're dreaming a sweet dream of me.

Keep moving, dear prince, clear the path with your sword,
At the end of this journey will be a reward.

It will be you and me, together at last,
And it can happen soon, if you ride very fast.

But no matter how long your painful endeavor
I pray that you get here, better late than never.