Here is a country ruled by silence.
Empty streets bask in sunlight and absence.
A country of mice and dark windows.
In an audience room dance a few shadows.

The oldest one speaks :
"I am an Eternal Empress ; blessed is my lot.
My subjects have gone, but my rule has not.
Through sunrise and twilight I seat on cold stone,
For one more day I rule, once again to suffer alone."

She oversees a sea of empty homes.
What a poor fate, for one's crown to be so heavy,
For a single soul to bear the eternity of duty.