I could never be like them, they had told me.
I was made to believe that their blood was blue,
Mine was the ordinary, a boring red.
Born as princes, they were warriors so true,
Whereas I did not count as a thorough bred.
My golden armour, my gilded earrings paled
In front of the privileged crowns on their heads
My bow and my arrows revolted, but they failed.
I must never kill them, begged a certain she.
She, who left me with an ignoble couple,
Did her blue and their red, make my blood purple?
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