Princess of verses, lady of such beauty forbidden.
Across both mindscapes of men and fields of time.
Remained alive as a relic of a simpler age.
Before the tyrannical grip of song had seized men.
And women of low report alike.
A scar obscured by lace and black coronet.
Marked where her song and silence had met.
However if you asked her she'd politely correct you.
Nothing more than child's folly I assure you.
Before a snapping arrow would pierce you.