My Assassination.

Methinks that I had not deserved as thou hast given me.
I may admit my swollen heart had greatly been misplaced.
I formed the battlements, the glory, all within my fancy,
To cut, to conquer, the kingdoms round, to ever be erased.
Yet when I came to meet with thee; with thee and all the Senate
I found the crowd all pressing in and flashing silver blades.
The casting of the die, the dropping of the gauntlet,
All planned out and all prepared; away the reason fades.
I feel the pain in agony. O’ why this violence? O’ why this death?
From far away I heard the cry that not for me was answered.
Blinded by blood, I tripped and fell and took within a final breath.
I see the faces encircled round me and see your vision blurred.
Ye stood above, my sweetest friend, I only thought I knew.
My heart is fading and all I say is, “Not you. Not you. O’ not you too!”