The Queen
The Queen
by Hafsa Memon
The queen was born into perfection.
The grace and power she moves her sword shows
Her worth and her greatness.
Her uniform hides her shape.
She dances with soldiers in the courtyard accompanied by her sword.
She dances with officials and politicians to get her way.
Always has, always will.
She says her greatest weapon is her mind,
For she can bring a punishment worse than death.
But her long flowy dress glides through the air as she dances with strangers in the castle.
The children of the castle run up and hug her.
She consistently cares for the garden.
The elders give her cookies and wise words.
Her laugh echoes through the halls of the castle.
You can tell what pages she touched if you enter the library.
She is two extremes, yet people only see one side of her.
You either see the ruthless torturer or a pure lover.
The crown sits on her head, making her remain humble.
The woman on the throne is like the wind.
She controls hurricanes and tornadoes
The flowers and trees.
The queen who isn’t loyal to her country, but to the world.
Her grace is made of the world, not her country’s throne.