Identity Of The Conflicted Poem by The Queen's Dagger

Reminiscing the years when tears would flow,
Chained by deceptive passion.
She sat among the spiders
Alone in the bitter cold.

Debates with the Dragon
Whether or not she will freeze
Or burn.

The Dragon's frigid breath entices her
And the white hot flames engulf
As she plays a simple tune
And sheds her final tear by the light of the moon.

But some unknown force stoops low
To catch her tears' never ending flow
And store it safely away
In a netherworld far from the clash of the fray.

This force stands tall and proud,
Radiating an aura of power so deafeningly loud.
Clad in ebony robes, it greets her
Knowingly
In a tone so pure
And damaged.

Words drip slowly out of its mouth
To form a puddle on the floor
As it states
An identity that fearfully resonates:

'I am the Queen
Destined to slay your Dragon.
For it is really quite simple;
I am you.'