admist the chaos, she reigned supreme
before the bustling crowd, she let them scream
coming from the free fall, she let them trample her down
despite it all, she held her hand and carried her crown
even if they underestimated her, she always proved them wrong
for it is their conscience that made her strong.
greed and rivalry is what peasants pursue,
hope and kindness a fairy tale that never came true.
in those times where people made her regret choices,
just a taste companionship she wanted.
kept within the catacombs of despair,
longing for a life of peace, yet never laid bare
many of whom she trusted dear,
never once forgotten the blood she sheds clear
over bodies full of bones yet now emptied from secrets.
people disappoint her, yet the crown she honors
quaint pasteurs is all she wanted,
reverent in prayer of the tongue she possesses.
seconds tick by as she waited for rebirth
to only find mere child-like wonder from the hearth,
utopian dreams, a sin to think and wish for
violence pretending as a villain, she withdraws the sword
"weak hearted and useless," she let them holler for more
you will never taint the heart of the warrior
zealous and bravery, chaos ensues.