the golden diadem sat heavy,
upon her delicate little head,
a symbol of prestige and power,
more a shackling chain instead.
trapped within the walls of this palace,
towers of silver and halls of jade-green,
this gilded prison was a source of envy,
for who wouldn't want the life of a queen?
but as she stared through the stained glass,
at the glowing lights embraced by the sky,
the only thing her majesty envied,
was the freedom of the stars up high.
➙ even power wants for more
YOU ARE READING
exhale the stars | ✓
Poetryin this morally grey world without heart, i'm a technicolor work of art. ✰ poetry and prose ✰ © 2020 astralyrics
