The maiden and the sell-sword knight

Sweet bliss of a maiden,
under your existence only can i be a poet,
only with your melody can i sing of love.
Let me sell my honor, and your sell-sword i shall be,
let me be a flower in your yard and i shall be a rose,
and thorns i will bare to keep your foes away.
Let me be your guard, and i shall stand tall as a tower,
the worst enemy of the marksmen seeking to slow your heartbeat,
claws and teeth i shall grow like a lion, with my courage being second to none,
the front lines i shall conquer and keep away from your garden.
A fool of a knight i can be, and yet i know your heart sweet maiden,
i know it lusts another man.
Yet a knight's love is as loyal as the sun,
so there i will be, for it is my duty, a duty from the heart,
to keep the evil at bay, away from your fragrant petal dance.
Let me be your hunter, and like a pack of hungry wolves i shall hunt your fears away.
The sword in my hand sweet maiden, was not forged for me it seems,
but for the purpose of your goodness, so is my armor.
Legions of arrows can fall on my naked skin,
and spears shall enslave my breath,
yet i will rise from the grave if i need to,
for i am your sell-sword.