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By coujeaux Date: 2003 May 14 Comment on this Work [[2003.05.14.21.17.17131]] |
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Now is not as she remembered it, these times unsettled, but it wasn't always so, Once hers was the most beautiful world everywhere known, and not so long ago. There were no legends then; as imagination paled to the very essence of beings, Sipping of light, bathing in love, to each her blessing was what a new day brings. Dewdrops upon lotus, paradise indeed; what lands to be spoiled by any impure? Protection lie in sanctity of honest intentions, noble heart; what ways they were. Strummed the mandolineers, harmonized the virgins; chorus, implore us sweet, To Ferocia, our mother, guardian of the frontier between utopia and incomplete. Sat she upon throne of silken dedications; they were woven for comfort, in awe, Fluttered in perfect timing did the doves, her pets; none but unison was her law. How uneasy was this throne, little was known; a keepress' eyes never deceived, Despite gnaw of barbarian fear in her crown, no harm would come, she believed. Cruel taskmaster, advance; came the raiders upon there to tear apart this reign, Stood she in front of the conquerors as sacrifice, and in their path did she remain. The innocent fled in their first fear; the queendom laid bare through slashing burn, Leader of the invaders happened on her, faced by an equal who would never turn. Sword into her heart spelled an end, but not hers; her final gift was but a request, Of God that she would live forever, her utter perfection encased in feminine chest. |