#henryviii
O DEATH, rock me asleep,
Bring me to quiet rest,
Let pass my weary guiltless ghost
Out of my careful breast.
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Let thy sound my death tell.
Death doth draw nigh;
There is no remedy.
My pains who can express?
Alas, they are so strong;
My dolour will not suffer strength
My life for to prolong.
Alone in prison strong
I wait my destiny.
Woe worth this cruel hap that I
Should taste this misery!
Farewell, my pleasures past,
Welcome, my present pain!
I feel my torments so increase
That life cannot remain.
Cease now, thou passing bell;
Rung is my doleful knell;
For the sound my death doth tell.
Death doth draw nigh;
There is no remedy.
Apr 8
Apr 8, 2026 at 10:52 PM UTC
You who holds the throne
You must atone
You were just a second son
Are you truly the destined one?
First it was your brothers betrothed
The lucky one
The one who got to escape your soon to be heinous acts
Years will come, and your name engraved in everyones memory
She was older, and bare you no son
She must be gone.
You introduced divorce
And like a con,
She was.
Next was that poor maiden,
Her face still hidden,
Such a tragedy
It was the red of her lipstick that caught your attention,
She bore you a girl,
How dare she?
She must die, right?
Blame the blood-like lipstick, her being with her brother if necessary,
She mustn’t live.
Then it was your true love,
Or what others thought to be.
This one gave you a son
Howver neither of you could watch him grow.
Was it worth it?
I think not.
And once again,
Just like that the never-ending chain,
Started going going around
Once again.
This one was short lived.
All the way from germany.
The neighbouring country.
They sent you a painting of her
What a beauty!
But when she came
Opposing thoughts came in like a clutter.
Annulment is what you wanted
So it was what you got.
The cousin of the second wife is next
(You should’ve known better)
She was young, lively and such a beauty.
But just like her beloved cousin,
Her lipstick was a bright scarlet red also.
She got what she deserved right?
A beheading. Execution. Whatever you want to call it. Its over now anyway
How dare she, do such a treacherous, scandalous act?
Embarrass you, humiliate you?
Commit such an unlawful dubious thing?
Off with her head is what you wanted,
So it was what you got.
Finally, we’re at the end.
You who had the most wives in your bloodline, how does it feel to reach the finish line?
You got fat, and old, whilst this new one was much better off
She survived,
lucky one indeed!
You died
How does it feel to have it end with no true successor?
Not a boy in sight to take your throne
Only your two daughters
But they’re just girls
What good could they do?
Feb 4, 2025
Feb 4, 2025 at 12:47 PM UTC
.
Henry VIII was a deluded monarch,
he could never have ruled the Earth,
for he hasn't seen his **** for years,
hiding beneath the bulk of his girth.
And wobbling onto the battle field
is not the behaviour fit for a King,
he would have to sit nursing his cysts
and hoping the ointments don't sting.
His eating excess was cause for concern
but his syphilis remained largely unseen,
and one really has to feel so sorry for
whomever it is that is currently Queen.
His penchant for young and younger Ladies
made him a stranger to baths and soap,
and his bed hopping antics to sire a son
bought him much trouble from the pope.
© Pagan Paul (09/12/18)
Dec 9, 2018
Dec 9, 2018 at 5:13 PM UTC