Here I sat in meditation
and I unlock a memory in my heart.
A vision, a tale, a fantasy, a dream,
but it is nonetheless a truth
of my Beloved.
I remember that he had rode many fine horses
and I remember he had lead many fine men.
Such fearsome lots, those men,
who bore heavy arms and silver armor,
and swords and arrows and spears
and carriers of a flags bearing their
family's name.
They had many fine weaponry and armory.
If he could tell me the story of how he lead
his men to their deaths, he would tell me,
"We all died for honor."
And then he waited for my opinion
on the matter, and I said to him,
"Very well, my love. Live and fight with no regret."
"But I cannot raise my sword without
the blessing of the Queen."
With a sigh, knowing I will never
see my beloved again,
I took his sword, kiss the blade
that will runneth with hot red blood,
of those that will sever the ties the greed and filth
of those who oppose us,
his enemies, his foes will meet his friends
on the graves of their battlefields as corpses.
Knowing I cannot stop him for love or money,
I said to my King with no bitter or regret
but with hate of the enemy that bid his company to the battlefield.
The wife of the Lord of the land can do no other
than to stir the hellish fire in his heart with courage
to fight his enemy,
"Go. Go my love and swear that your enemy
will never see the light of day.
Go ride and skewered their hearts with thy sword
in my honor.
Go fight to keep the peace for our people,
go fight in the blaze of glory and show them your fire
to instill fear in their hearts."
With a nod, he barely shed a tear or demonstrate mercy,
and he said,
"I swear. Thy command be done. I shall go."
The road to hell is paved with good intentions
and on his throne, I sat
awaiting his return
and after the war is over
his knights return with his body and armor in tow
for the Hero's welcome
and within my power
I send my king to his resting place
to the cold embrace of a grave
and the fiery flames of a funerary pyre
In your castle, I silently wept
and in your castle, I silently slept
Until the day has come when your knights
bury me beside you once more
as your faithful wife and queen.
But alas, the story happened long ago
in a long distance past that one calls history
and history is dead and long perished in the memory
A fairy tale romance that is kept alive forever in Spirit.
I no longer remember any names other than my own.
I no longer remember the rolling hills of green
of our homeland where the spirit of Albion reside.
I only remember my name, the castle, and
the blazing fires of courage that my husband rode
on his war stallion.
Sword in one hand and the shield in the other
and the chivalry and the fight for honor.
With the memory and story being told,
I wrapped a cloak of peace around my Beloved
blazing in my heart and I told him,
"Beloved alas! I hath remember thee!
I have not forgotten our vow of marriage
and eternal love that day
that we made before our Lord, our God.
You have return from your journey at long last
to be with me once more!"
"And what dost thou to say to me, Beloved?" He asketh of me.
I simply look into his eyes, smiled, and said in my humbleness,
"Despite my sufferings, they compared little to thee."
I wrapped him into my embrace, and whispered,
"You humble me. I love you."