A young girl was walking
Alone
In the woods
Stumbled upon ruins
Of a stronghold
By the looks

Where squires used to play swords
And knights fought
Brave wars
Scattered pillars all that
Remained of
Great halls


A young girl was kneeling
Down
In the dust
Looked at the remnants
Of a crown
Covered with rust

Telling of eras
Of dragons, wolves
And rooks
Of halls filled with swords
Spears and spell books


A young girl was weeping
Serenely
In the hush
Prayed to spirits unknown
Even to her
Ancient gods

Angels sent from above
Sank down
Without rush
Shook the sorrow from her
As if with
A subtle brush


A young girl was standing
Amidst
Angels old
She heard not once thunder
Yet they were covered
In lightning bolts

First the girl was trembling
But then she stepped
Forward, bold
From her numb fingers
Slipped the crown
Made of gold