Crowned Majesty
Reflection
In twilight's hush, where shadows reign,
A figure emerges, veiled in mystic pain,
A crown of thorns, a visage pale,
Eyes that gleam like stars, beyond the veil.
The darkness whispers secrets, cold and grey,
Yet in her gaze, a light holds sway,
A paradox of power, of might and grace,
A sovereign of the night's dark, sacred space.
Her robes, a tapestry of intricate design,
Echoing the patterns of a bygone time,
The crown, a symbol of her regal might,
A beacon in the darkness, shining bright.
In her presence, we find a strange solace,
A sense of mystery, a world to explore,
A journey through the shadows, to the light,
Guided by the crowned majesty, in all her might.