The Walls Come Crumbling Down

Hail to the King and Queen! We yell with a type of blind fervor that we hate.
Heralds of the perfect picture of domesticity,
Continuing the path wrought with children and picket fences,
We fought long and hard for that gilded road covered in perfection.

But we can see the foundation cracking,
And a different type of light is coming through.

I cannot deny that when I heard the news,
A slightly spiteful smile escaped from my face.
I used to think I was to be the Queen.
But I escaped that fate,
Taking up my sword and fighting more courageous battles.
The things I have seen and the adventures I have had are gold themselves,
Now, I can hardly imagine a life with you, your Majesty, possessing me.

I pity the King and Queen,
as their faces turn to ash and the walls of their fortress come crumbling down.
Their faces distort in anger as all they thought was secure is shaken.

We live is insecure times,
The concept to perfection to which you cling, is dead.