412 – Throne

It was scratched and battered,
Badly dented on one side,
And completely tarnished black.

All its sparkling jewels
Had been torn away,
Leaving it full of gaping holes,
Like the empty eye sockets
On some mythical beast’s skull.

It was now just a sad relic,
Neglected flotsam
From happier times.
But it was the crown,
And she was the queen.

Purposefully,
She placed the blackened husk
Over her golden hair.
Sword in hand,
She left the ruins.

All she ever wanted
Was a quiet life
To live in peace along her love,
But the barbarians
Had set fire to her kingdom.

She would now bring the fire
Back to theirs.