Also, thanks to Artificial Intelligence, here is a Shakespearean version which could very well be used for a future "Edward VIII" piece:
The darkness doth descend upon my soul,
Dearest brother, what shall I do to be whole?
Once wore the crown, thou wert the sovereign,
Albert, England weeps, and so do I.
For without thee, who shall exorcise,
These haunting thoughts and sins that plague my mind?
Beyond the Channel, o'er the vast sea,
No friend doth exist who compares to thee.
Madness grips this isle, its tendrils tight,
Our Empire falters as the wheel takes flight,
And who remains to mourn our forebears' might?
What fate awaits us, but to wither and fade?
The House doth cry, "Let peace be the aid,"
But a foe so cunning, bold, and twisted,
Hath lured Britannia into his abyss.
Nay! Peace shall never find its dwelling here,
I have learned, false oaths breed naught but fear.
But what shall a King do when his realm turns deaf?
The Butler shall depart, 'tis true,
Ensnared by the enchantress, that treacherous shrew.
Yet, who shall rise to fill his vacant space?
Another lowly knave to be beguiled?
Mayhap a jester, to stand by his side?
Nay, I proclaim, Britannia shall not decline.
Brother dear, in thy grave, I beseech thee,
May Heaven's mercy upon me be.
For I, Edward of Windsor, stand to face,
This wicked deed, in this accursed place.
