Poised and perfect over an empire struggling to hold her

Golden chokers with deep orange gems like the sun itself

They bend to her and they don’t know why

They don’t question it, why would they?

The gilded empress gives her joy away freely

Her eyes, like twinkling burning stars shiver at the sight

Of her own heart made of ice

Shards pierced pieces of her insides, and the gilded empress bled

Because she was never golden

She was never meant to rule

Gold is soft and meant to be bent and walked upon

She truly was the gilded empress

But no longer

They saw her eyes were filled with the day’s sky

They looked past the blinding light and they could see the snow she was from

So she found herself, cloaked in white, running from the gold she was given

She tried so hard to be perfect for the golden mold

But in the end, she was a disfigured icicle

The people were angered by a lie and hunted her so

She took to her snowy wings and returned to the sky

Shaken and useless, the people cried out to her,

“Please come back! We don’t hate you!”

They wanted the gilded empress to return

She looked from her perch made of ice crystals

She would not return, at least not the same

Ice melts when it grows warm

Snow melts when it grows warm

Taking upon a servine form, she blew a breath of ice

She destroyed the monster of flames

And now no one cried for her, because there was no one left to cry out

(June 2019)