Love costs

For him, she was a flower,
A rose, as delicate as a petal
But filled with might and power,
She belonged to the throne, fatal.

For her, he was a peasent,
The lowly and truthfully unkind
Filled with this strange attraction,
His aura was alas, like beautiful old wine.

For him, she was this hot mess,
A bit beaten up and put down by life
But powerful enough to taste success,
Strong enough to still go ahead with strife.

For her, he was mysterious,
A flavour she hadn't yet tasted
A wild spoon of scandalous,
Something she couldn't bare to go wasted.

For him, she was his breath,
For her, he was her soul
A mixture of all of world's wealth,
Couldn't buy what their hearts, hold.

Alas! For the society, this was wrong,
For them, t'was but a crime
They pulled them apart from the happy song,
Doomed again, to become the bitter queen and the poor unhappy swine.