LOVE, DEATH AND HEARTBREAK.

Huge and mighty are you, my lord, Henry!
Henry  like Arthur.
The king.
Henry, a name befitting that of a king.
A name both majestic and great, like our lord and saviour Jesus Christ, yet monstrous and greedy art thou.
A prince, you are and a king, you shall be.
You are a king born from both God  and your mother's womb.
A king anointed by the lord  god himself.
Great and mighty art thou, oh king.
You are both mighty in the battlefield, as you are under the sheets.
Both gentle and generous you are not.
Huge and mighty, you are indeed.
Aye! you are the king, nevertheless.
Aye! You are the king, indeed, but you are a deceiver my lord, Henry.
You are craftier than that of an asp and you are a changeable as the seasons.
Spring.
Summer.
Autumn and Winter.
They come and they go and yet  they come again.
Changeable art thou.
 Cruel you are.
Cruel you are  indeed.
No man can trust you, for if anyone were to confide in you, that person will be made into a fool and his corpse shall be made into a feast for the crows.
Aye! that person is a fool, indeed.
For one minute, you give gifts to your servant, to your fellow man and the next minute, you put his head on a spike.
You are sneaky as you are dangerous,  my king and yet no man can ever trust you, oh great king.
Are you so used to the darkness, that you have forgotten what light looks like?
Your lovers are many , but your madness is great.
Little girls and maidens, you rape alike.
Have you no shame, have you no honour.
Your wife, your second wife  along with your fifth wife were beheaded.
Is that so?
Both second and fifth were innocent of these so- called charges.
Let us list them, shall we:
“Adultery.”
“Witchcraft and Incest.”
You, liar you, my lord have committed both adultery and incest with both your second wife’s sister and cousin.
Liar!
Liar!
That is what you are, you are a liar.
You are a thief that has come to steal from me clean.
You are a thief that has come to steal me, from all my goods.
You are lust.
You take and take and take, but you never give love back to me.
Let us go back to the people, that you had claimed to love and admire, shall we?
Katherine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn , Ser Thomas Moore, Mistress Jane Seymour and your late friend and your best friend Ser Thomas Cromwell, whom you had killed, also whom you had shown no mercy to.
You had killed them all.
As you had beheaded the late queens of old,  Queen Anne Boleyn and Queen Katherine Howard and many others that were like them, the Lord god will also behead you too.
As the sun sets in the east and as it rises in the west, your body shall explode and the dogs in the streets shall come and feast on your corpse.
Oh great king! What trouble you are in.
You speak to me about treason, while you know absolutely nothing.
“ What do you know, that I do not?” King Henry the 8th had once asked me.
For I said “ Well! I know that killing both your second and your fifth wife was treasonous enough.
You are like fire and you consume everything that you touch and you show no mercy.
Thou art mad, Henry.
Thou art mad, indeed.
You are like that of a termite, Henry.
All you do is  eat, f*ck and yet take yet again.
You have committed murder, your majesty.
Neither were your wives nor your friends ever yours to kill, Henry,  but they were yours to love, they were yours to respect and they were also yours to treasure,  but you did not do any of those things, now did you King Henry the 8th ?
Aye! You  sought your wives out, that you did, but did you ever  love them?
No! You could not find it in yourself to love them because you were too vain.
Have you ever loved someone before?
Have you ever fallen in love, my lord?
Do you know how love truly feels like, my lord and my king?
What is love, might you ask?
Love is not when your lover’s lips meet yours.
It is not when man's cock is in a woman's vagina or in your lady's mouth.
It is you never growing weary of your wife.
It is you respecting her parents and her children, the same way that you respect yourself.
It is you remembering her and your children’s birthday.
It is you tending to your wife, your lady love and your mistress.
It is you loving her and respecting her unconditionally.
It is you, never raising your voice nor hitting either your wife and your children.
It is you speaking to them gently and it is you telling them how special they are to you.
It is you being there for them in good times and as well in the bad.
It is you being your children’s father.
It is you, being your wife’s husband.
It is you, being their companion.
It is you being you.
It is not you  just cooking and cleaning and paying for your children’s school fees.
That is the secret.
That is the price.
That is the treasure.
That is love.
That is it.
It is not you being their judge, jury and the executioner.
It is not you nit-picking your partner.
It is you actually loving them and above all appreciating them, but you had failed to that do, Henry.
You have failed to do all of that.
Now look at what you have become, Henry?
How could you ever claim to love us, if you barely even know how to love yourself.
May God have mercy of us all, Henry.
You are like the mad- hatter, Henry.
You are like the mad- hatter, indeed.
You make hats both great and small, but you give it to no- one but yourself.
Thinking that they would all fit you, you kept them all to yourself, but the Lord god had given you a hat, Henry.
One of deep red.
Crimson red, specifically.
Your favourite, Henry.
So! Why haven't you giving all the hats, that you have made to others, my sweet boy, my sweet henry.
Alas! You are buried.
Alas! You are gone.
Alas! You are dead.
Alas! You have gone down the pit not taking at least one hat with you.
Goodbye, Henry.
Goodbye, my love.
Goodbye, my son.
Goodbye, my king.
Goodbye, my sweet child.
Goodbye, forever.