I shalt consecrate one as mine empress
As she sitteth high up upon her throne;
She shalt be the ruler of mine dominion
An abode aloft the Earthling's decor below.
I shalt put upon her eminence gracefully
A castle tiera upon her frowning head;
Wherein when one's shalt tryeth to hurt her
I'll giveth mine life, to protecteth mine wife's bed.
And we shalt wander on the streamside
Whilst ourn harp-player's strum for us in ourn court;
Sipping on wine, of amare divine
Ourn spirit's and finger's, locked with none remorse.
Though tis this is all just an illusion
Hoping for one day, mine empress to awaketh from her sleep;
Wherein wherever she shalt be, I cant findeth her
I thinkest I am dead, Maby asleep?
©Lonesome poet's poetry
— The End —