Meditation of a Wounded Knight

Pain.
Ah, that dear friend, she has come to share her warm embrace with me again. Her gentle touch, soft as a lover's touch should be soft, reminds me of the many nights spent in her arms. Comforting. Familiar.
I had wondered when she would visit again, this night. She comes to me early sometimes, sometimes later. Tonight has been late, hours spent waiting on my lover's presence. I knew she would come to me, there has not been a night where we have been parted for long.
Her caress reminds me of many past adventures, follies. She is as familiar to me as my armour, as comfortable as my skin, a constant companion on nights such as these.
These past years, not a night has passed without her touch. Familiar as she has become, she is still a welcome addition to my night, her presence expected, comforting. I slip now into her embrace, awaiting a rude awakening that I know will come. Yet, for now, she is with me, I am in her arms, and the world is at peace.