A Match Made in Hatred

I hated her before I even knew her name.
My bride.
The daughter of my enemy.
She’s nothing more than a part of my revenge.
I’m the one who holds her life in my hands,
As well as her body.
And soon, her very will.
Yet, she refuses to break.
This woman disarms me, not with weapons but words
And not with a fist, but with a simple kiss.
A match made in hate can have no other ending except war.