Idling tears caress her skin
Erasing all traces of joy from within
A moist memory lane sketched upon
A canvas of tragedy with which she was born.
An army of undergrowth drag her towards
The battleground of past, she thought she conquered
But hidden were the ghosts in graves too weak
She built, to hold her illusions that wreaked.
And so they chant her name and demand
The capture of a queen that triumphed too fast
If only she had a last fight left
Hidden in her shattered bones and weakened heart.
But alas! This war has already been won
She shall soon surrender all of her guns
Filled with bullets too frail to imbue
The blackened souls of her foes to come.
And so she prepares for her grave
Enforced by masses she previously prevailed
She knows they won't repeat her mistake
Of leaving some holes for air to bathe
Her in some light, for they're borne by hope
Her enemies shan't risk her life a rope
That anchors a slender part of her soul
To memories of past still soaked in gold.
A final quest her fading breath breathes
The last piece of her bespeaks
Her tomb to stand as a moral shrine
And teach others the power of life.
Let all else learn the courage to stand
Disavow all mercy upon the lands
Of enemies that will not show a dime
Of justice towards your faithful fight.
- Rati
