Literary Vegan

Her pearls are gone - They drift out of reach in the green water Black stones gather on the sand To adorn another queen. Her hands are empty - The sword is held at her As she reaches the surface, She is to remain on the rocks. Despondant and bloody, She looks into the lake Her reflection ripples away from the island And touches the mainland in the distance - Her magic reaches still. C. LJ 2020.

The outline of that crown Sank beneath the Sun And into the sea. Those castles now were Underwater cities. So, too water fell From her face To join the murky shapes Of memory. But with depth There is foundation - She summoned herself To the other side of the sea Where her own waves And wild horses Waited To be made or broken By their unknown queen. Copyright LJ 2020

Black fabric covers the Sun. Against her wishes, A blade of light breaks through The grieving walls To touch the white pearls And climb the lace leaves Until she is outlined in gold. Her gown glisters among solemnity As it also sung in ceremony She surrounds herself with shadows Yet she is displayed in the dark A white widow Lost in all she has lost, Already found by the crown she is. Copyright LJ 2020.