This world may be rough,

But I shall be your gentlewoman -

A Nymphaeaceae in the slough. 

And if you suck at weaponry,

Then I could behead your dragons. But why,

We don't have to kill those darlings.

We better keep them intact, with wings

and fangs and everything. Enclosed

Within our own Ewige Gärten, pegged,

So yours can mate with mine -

And one day they'd lay an emerald Fabergé egg, 

 On which our souls will dine.