The Princess of my heart indeed
Lived in the heart of death
She cut a canal for fresh tears
And hit the eyes of sunlight
That hit my blind at dawn
This path of printed pages raw
How royalty trod it for fun
But my lone star did spot the sign
Of printed minds as well
Who had to paint the paint
The phenomenal race course
Has bitter gold to give
No cheering stadia fans
To a game of non-starters
Where God Himself is Ref
The Princess of the New Empire
How can you say they killed her
Who did what and where
The underdogs bear me out
Her life is red ink there
This full moon day has filled my eyes
With water of salt so deep
My Queen will ride into tomorrow
Her Saviour calls her home
Where angels praise and pray
The bridge that tripped her soul from sole
Robbed her of all she had
Consuming her love in anger bent
Herself a swinging bridge
Upon pent-up pen pals
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem