Poetry: The Palace

Her throne is still without a king
She has defied mortal being
Yet her tales have soared without wing
Far beyond human wandering

Her golds and gems, who dares wearing?
Her songs, mere mortals cannot sing
Sealed doors no one dares opening
Cursed throne, cursed crown, cursed robes, cursed king

Dead but her heart is still beating
Bound to the blood of its slain king



If it were nothing but a game
Then there would be no one to blame
I could kiss royalty and fame
And treat folly and lack the same

Charming men like a pretty dame
The rich and poor, the strong and lame
My wild wild heart none would dare tame
men would sing of naught but my name

Like palaces this is no game
Vanity won’t my heart inflame



His palace a wall less castle,
In peace he lives with no rumble,
In her presence, his heart tumble,
Through her bright eyes, his fears crumble,
With her smile, his glee double,
Blushing different shades of purple,
King, followers never grumble,
Courageous knight of times past, tale,
Rode horses without a saddle,
Propel boats without a paddle.

Hijab Gurl

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