The road stretches out to the open,
to the sea of tranquility
The king's daughter stays inside the glass walls
lost in the labyrinth of time, searching serenity
While the trees casts images on the glasses
she stitches the blouses and petticoats of the king's widow
when the foliage rustles by the touch of the breeze
she hears the wails and shrills of the eldest one.
She was told to keep the windows shut,
and that chandelier -- a king's pride,
so she goes out only in the night
wrapped in a veil away from the moonshine.
The king died on a chilly night
leaving behind two prodigal kins
They dance under the light of the treasure-trove
while she keeps the fire save though the night.
The road stretches out to the open,
to the sea of tranquility
The king's daughter stays inside the glass walls
lost in the labyrinth of time, searching serenity.
1 comment:
your words drew me into their tale as though i was there experiencing the glass, the trees, cloth, moon and night. thank you.
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