I Love You but I've Chosen Me, Pt. III: The Bards Mard

Now I get the chance to speak
Albeit forced, albeit brief
A pretty picture aren’t we just
One for the victim, the victor who’s also judge
Our horses in balanced prose dragged our corpses in gallant robes
In competition to decide: who hurts the most when we collide?
Come one come all
Come one come all
Here comes the king
His righteous majesty
Fate has betold thee
A king should take a knee
For if he cannot bow his reign no one will allow
His head he struggled to keep
His head quickly rolling past his feet