Poetry · Writing

Splendour

The crown sits heavy on her head.
Cruel, in its splendour.
Dangerous, in its beauty.
She rises to
defeat each adversary.

Not the life she chose,
But it’s hers nonetheless.
Nothing given to her.
Nothing taken.
She fought for this.

Breathe, she says to herself.
Live, she manifests.
Inspire change, she whispers.

The crown sits heavy on her head.
Savage, in its splendour.
Brutal, in its beauty.
But it’s hers,
and hers alone.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.