This Is Not a Love Story

This is not a love story, this is the aftermath of war.

This is me finally reading the fine print of the peace treaty we signed in blood.

This is one kingdom rebuilding itself from the ground, from ash, from bone.

This is the other, paved with gold,

Feasting on the fresh meat,

Having cake and eating it.

This is not a love story,

This is blood washed off your armour,

Blood rinsed off your hands

So you’ll feel clean when you touch her.

This is the carcass of the love story we never finished;

But if you’ll only ever make me your act one,

You sure as hell won’t be my epilogue.