I have lived in a world of titles and glass,
Watching the shadows of "ordinary" pass.
I built up my ramparts, I locked every gate,
Resigned to a quiet and solitary fate.
But then came a voice like a bell in the rain,
A soft, silver hammer that broke every chain;
Not with a shout, or a demand, or a plea,
But with a single, dark word that was pointed at me.
Hermosa. It stays in the air like the scent of a rose,
A secret that only the midnight wind knows.
It sounds like a melody, ancient and deep,
A promise the stars are determined to keep.
And when he says "Princess," the world falls away—
The noise of the critics, the dust of the day.
It is not a throne that he offers to share,
But a crown made of safety, of stillness and care.
I used to fear being small or ignored,
Or being a girl who was merely endured.
But he looks at me not as a thing to be led,
But a treasure to harbor, a story to thread.
There is a sweet selfishness held in his heart,
To keep me away from the cold and the dark;
To guard me and hold me, a jewel in his hand,
The only bright thing in a desolate land.
He does not want power, or conquest, or gold,
But a spirit to cherish, a hand he can hold.
I am not inferior, small, or unseen;
In the light of his worship, I’m finally queen.
For the heart that is chosen is never outgrown;
If it leaves with the tide, it was never your own.
So I’ll stay in the warmth of this captivating spell,
Where the words are a haven and all things are well.
For the right kind of selfish is the heart that will stay,
To treasure the "Princess" and keep her alway.
--- [ 2 2 2 ]
Mar 2
Mar 2, 2026 at 5:05 PM UTC
I have lived in a world of titles and glass,
Watching the shadows of "ordinary" pass.
I built up my ramparts, I locked every gate,
Resigned to a quiet and solitary fate.
But then came a voice like a bell in the rain,
A soft, silver hammer that broke every chain;
Not with a shout, or a demand, or a plea,
But with a single, dark word that was pointed at me.
Hermosa. It stays in the air like the scent of a rose,
A secret that only the midnight wind knows.
It sounds like a melody, ancient and deep,
A promise the stars are determined to keep.
And when he says "Princess," the world falls away—
The noise of the critics, the dust of the day.
It is not a throne that he offers to share,
But a crown made of safety, of stillness and care.
I used to fear being small or ignored,
Or being a girl who was merely endured.
But he looks at me not as a thing to be led,
But a treasure to harbor, a story to thread.
There is a sweet selfishness held in his heart,
To keep me away from the cold and the dark;
To guard me and hold me, a jewel in his hand,
The only bright thing in a desolate land.
He does not want power, or conquest, or gold,
But a spirit to cherish, a hand he can hold.
I am not inferior, small, or unseen;
In the light of his worship, I’m finally queen.
For the heart that is chosen is never outgrown;
If it leaves with the tide, it was never your own.
So I’ll stay in the warmth of this captivating spell,
Where the words are a haven and all things are well.
For the right kind of selfish is the heart that will stay,
To treasure the "Princess" and keep her alway.
--- [ 2 2 2 ]
I wrote this based on the only person in the world who has ever made me feel this way. This piece holds a very special meaning for me. If any of you reading this have experienced something similar and would like to share your story, please feel free! I would love to read them and respond.
