A Medieval Poem

This is neither love, nor hatred,
But something vaguely in between;
You are never ever tired
Playing a relentless queen;

In the shadows of the castle,
You're dominant and brave,
But the siege outside and bustle,
Make you not so pretty safe;

At the moat, stands with his army,
Your loyal enemy in crown,
He wants you, besides the country
And he firmly stands his ground;

Near you your mighty husband,
King of fertile, splendid land,
He knows collisions stay untold;
And he'll act as he has planned;


At the midnight, in the shadows,
He will kiss you and say "Go!"
Alongside your halls and cradles
Of your love and grieving snow;

"It is better for the nation!
You will be a welcomed hostage,
The agreement will be rational,
And a princess'll pay you homage;

I will give you better gowns,
And we'll travel to the sea,
Please, my darling, don't you frown,
Hide your sorrow and you'll be free!"

Here he comes, with guards beside him,
So handsome, fervent, strange and brutal...
Overwhelmed with joy he grins,
And you swallow, quite appalled...

You've just bid your fair country
A forgiving farewell...
Slash your soul, and be lovely bounded
Future's foggy, flashy hell;

He won't hurt you, he won't curse you,
And you country will stay fine,
No one pays so small attention,
At the broken vase of pride...

An illustration is by Михаил Хохлачев