Damsel in Distress

She was always a typical damsel in distress, wondering by the single windowed tower, waiting for her savior knight who'd come along with a lit up sword with dragon's blood dripping from its edge. She was a nymph of eternal beauty, much like a love-in-a-mist waiting to be plucked out. So much for waiting, unknown to the stairs that would lead her out onto the smoothed marble embanking the lake with suave water lilies. So much beauty on her, so much around her, and the chance to have it all just standing in front of her, yet she was bound to wait. She was a typical damsel in distress.