Lady of Crimson, Lady of Shades, Queen of Hearts, Queen of Spades.
Wading through the darkness, they sojourned through the heat.
Awaiting the palace gates to open, for the King to offer up a seat.
As crystal merchants lined the corridors of the labyrinth,
Awaiting the beast to rise from his slumber, we rinsed our paws in awe
In wonder at the spectacle
As the princess was stripped of her dressings, I bore witness to blessings torn,
Born to bear the mark of a war torn sky upon his forehead,
The skyline rumbles, as fire tumbles froth into the air.
Suffocating in the stench of heartache, we’re under fire, suffering confusion, bewilderment.
All it is we ask for a place to turn, a place to rest
All it is we ask for the return of our Princess to the nest
Goddess of purity of values chaste, of dreamtime sanctuary I call upon you
To taste the flesh of those who would lay your temple to waste.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderful kaleidoscope of images that remind me of some of the French symbolists of the last century. It also has overtones of Tennyson too in the use of language and the flowing metre.