Poetry of the Damned
Copyright© 2026 by Oz Ozzie
Chapter 2: On the Marriage of the Houses
Let trumpets call the gathered great to see
Two ancient houses joined in unity:
The blood of Jutor, noble, fair, and old,
To Hunsen’s rising name and soldier’s gold.
Was ever seen, beneath so kind a sun,
A match so meet, two houses made as one?
Behold the groom, in scarlet trimmed with blue,
The proudest coat that proudest division knew;
Upon his brow the officer’s high crest,
And on his breast the honours he has dressed—
No hero of the songs of older days
Stood straighter in the people’s ringing praise.
And see the bride come walking through the green,
As fair a maid as ever spring has seen;
Her gown of white, her train a sweeping fall
Of silk that drank the light and gave it all,
Her father’s pride, her mother’s gentle grace,
The bloom of youth alight upon her face.
Beneath the open sky they spoke their vows,
While all the kingdom’s worthy bent their brows;
No word was harsh, no cup was raised too high,
No cloud presumed to cross so clear a sky—
The very day put on its best attire
To grace a union all the land admired.
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