Lady Jane Grey

How came I here
Closing Boleyn's own curtains?
I look around, speculative, silent,
The ghost of a crown
Still on my head,
Flickering like the candles
In the dark.
I kneel in prayer
My faith is a fire
Higher than the fireplace flame -
But I am housed in
Treasonous coals.


Copyright LJ 2021.

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