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The Cleric and the Princess.

See the effort of the cleric,
This poem is his merit.

Who is that silvered haired tigress?
She is but the radiant princess.

Admired by all, she walks with grace.
Beware all enemies, you better run.
If you stare, at the end of her gun
Standing tall, lays enemies to waste.
Observing it all, makes my heart race.

Even if we were born, under different stars.
My affections for you travel, ever far.
This fondness I cannot bear.
Unless it is a desire, we both share.
Divine lioness, I fear to ask.
Will you love me, If I may be so brash?

- Arnon Katsu