Oh, dear brother, what have we done
a conviction of fate, dealt and sealed,
vengeance his, for lack of son.
On dampened floors I have kneeled,
I pray for you, and the innocent four-
our King's heart blackened from Cromwell's will,
to keep his finery, to forego the oath he swore,
to God, to man, his wicked words instill.
As walls move in, I ask one thing,
to spare my child from this devil's tower,
the eyes she shares with he, the King,
give her great strength, may she never cower.
to God, to man, his wicked words instill.
As walls move in, I ask one thing,
to spare my child from this devil's tower,
the eyes she shares with he, the King,
give her great strength, may she never cower.
*For Poetry Potluck. 'Fortresses, Castles, Palaces and Royal Houses.'
