Diss track for a femboy

Even this winter, though it chills me to the bone,

Does not fail to offer,

Some moments of hope,

But you with your empty speeches,

And manners most gallant,

Though warm on the outside,

Your heart lies vacant,

And who can surpass your knowledge of the middle ages?

You're always seen clutching romantic books,

Speaking of the days of knights and maidens,

You press rosebuds between the pages,

But all this is for show, and nothing more,

You've never felt that roaring force,

Of passion that rivals the waves of the ocean,

Your frame is far too delicate to endure,

The trembling when one's soul is on fire,

Love's just a word, a trope,

In that poem you read about Tristan and Iseult,

And until you understand, you'll always appear silly,

When you attempt to embody chivalry