Hail to the King
All mighty and strong
Hail to the Queen
Who sings a great song.
King asks for a song
The Queen doesn't bare
Every night to bed
To create a new heir.
Weeks speed by
And still nothing yet
The King is now nervous
The Queen's tears are wept.
The Queen's clothes are shed
As she lay with her King
They tumble all night
As fertility sings.
Nine months later
A baby is born
But not the right gender
So the baby is mourned.
The Queen has failed
Her dazzeling King
And now it's the blade
On her neck that must sing.
Mar 9, 2010
Mar 9, 2010 at 8:53 PM UTC
Hail to the King
All mighty and strong
Hail to the Queen
Who sings a great song.
King asks for a song
The Queen doesn't bare
Every night to bed
To create a new heir.
Weeks speed by
And still nothing yet
The King is now nervous
The Queen's tears are wept.
The Queen's clothes are shed
As she lay with her King
They tumble all night
As fertility sings.
Nine months later
A baby is born
But not the right gender
So the baby is mourned.
The Queen has failed
Her dazzeling King
And now it's the blade
On her neck that must sing.
I read somewhere that a King would often execute a Queen who couldn't bare a son or child in the middle ages.
I wrote this when I was in grade 11.