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God Save the Queen
I am but a knight,
Your Majesty,
an ignoble man of lowly birth
characterized by coarseness.
My baseness knows no bounds.

Caviar, fine wine, and diamonds
are all wasted on one such as myself.
My palette is undiscerning;
my tastes are unrefined.
Even if I could afford such things,
I would have little interest in them.

I have no kingdom or castle.
I yearn for neither.
I only want a simple home
and a simple life,
a life that is beneath your station.

A queen belongs in a castle,
surrounded by the finer things.
A queen should have
doors opened for her.
A queen should not
have to lift a finger.
A queen should be able
to travel to wherever she pleases.
And every queen
has her king.

And I am king of nothing,
Your Majesty.
I will be buried
in a pauper's grave.
I will be forgotten by history,
but remembered by you,
which is more than I ever dared to dream.

Tradition demands
that monarchs wed monarchs
and that commoners wed commoners.
The refined and unrefined
exist in separate worlds.
You've found happiness in your own world;
you've no need to leave it.

Your house has ruled for years
and you've known me for mere months.
Your house has not fallen;
your line has not ended.
Your king and your subjects
await you in the throne room.



© Little Devil