My heart cries the tears,

that my eyes will not weep

for when it all began,

I swore, she did not love him,

but she died in love's name all the same

I laugh as I cry,

for the died she died,

would always be remembered as his wedding day.

May his new bride,

feel the same betrayal of the ones

who came before.

For they all ended the same,

in disgrace, for a king's pleasure

one in exile,

her death hardly noted,

her replacement on the gallows,

jeered by the crowds.

What will become of this new betrayer,

the fake queen who's wearing a glittering crown?

In the end, the one who shall pay,

in blood and bone for these crimes,

will be the one who's unfaithful,

the one who set it all into motion.

Blood and bone, will be the price

for turning them agianst one another.

My thoughts of what Thomas Wyatt woulf have been thinking at the Death of his beloved anne

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