The Queen

The air was filled with anticipation,
the whole town was in an uproar,
Expectations and excitement mounted,
While there were celebrations galore.

To make the perfect crown and throne,
the best witches of the kingdom were called,
With flashes of fire and ancient power,
They were slowly and intricately wrought.

On the appointed day, the whole town assembled,
To watch the anointing of their queen,
The palace, though decked in silver and gold,
Looked intimidating for all its sheen.

The princess came dressed in black,
And a cheer rang out in the hall,
The drums rolled and the throne trembled,
but the bards’ songs overrode them all.

The crown was placed on her head,
Cold diamonds among warm rubies,
She smiled and sat gingerly on the throne,
And the crowd started chanting on their knees.

The spikes in the crown dug into her head,
Drilling deeper while she sat straight,
The throne hissed, twisted and melted,
Re-molding itself to absorb her weight.

The palace erupted in cheers,
for the princess that had once been,
Their hearts swollen and eyes filled,
As they looked at their eternal queen.