My lord, my lord, how fairest thou?
What crown now sits on your high brow?
Do you live in a good accord
With your own life, my lord?
Alas, my lady, I was maimed,
My land is in decay.
Though not at me their arrows aimed,
They struck me down the same.
My sight was halved, but I could see
What ridicule they've made of me.
Their words are foul and shady,
But I bear them, my lady.
But who am I to so complain?
I see you've suffered no less pain.
They may as well have struck you dead
And put a monster in your stead.
Aye, aye, my lord, that monster's foul,
It's teeth do gleam so when it scowls,
At night it twists its leering head.
It looks like it is living dead.
We both are gone, we both are torn,
But one day we may be reborn,
And in a good land once more dwell,
Although we different flowers smell.
My lady, you're remembered well -
I speak now to your memory -
But I alone in silence dwell,
And who remembers me?
Please answer all the parts of the riddle (or as many as you can, with a proper explanation). Happy riddling!