In the quiet before sunrise,
Jessica dons her armor:
Buckles her greaves
And cinches the straps
Of her breast-plate.
Her sword shines
Unsheathed.

In the distance,
The tower looms,
Cold stone crowned
With jagged parapets.
There, the virgin prince sleeps,
Spellbound, bewitched
By black-scaled dragon.

She grips the saddle with her thighs,
Spurs her valiant steed
Forward.
Neither flame nor magic
Will keep her from her
Fairy tale ending.