He married me, scared that wedding night, holding my breath.
We sat beside each other, his lips were soft, I felt his beard.
He whispered into my ear "Goodnight"
He would shout, words filling the men minds with courage.
King, was his inspiration.
Love was the other.
A girl dressed in white
giggles loud, so clear.
He would dream of his little heart.
His little child running through the fields.
Men laid dead, some missing.
I learned to love, protecting him at all costs.
They told me to forget him.
Telling me to say "no" toward the man I loved.
They sent me to a prison above the lake.
Screaming for him.
I knew he would come to me,
or I would come to him.
Every man dead.
Sun still rising.
Seeing him across the lake,
he stood waiting.
He was a king to the men,
leader to the country ,
a thief to my heart,
A King to many.