What The Thunder Said, Vol 4 - Page 15

The young Queen smiled as she raised her youthful silver eyes,

Cursing her conquering foe.

She now breathed her dying breath

And mourned the ill fate of her countrymen.

A quiet teardrop fell from her sacred white skin, as she finally discovered solace in death,

Carrying a white, blood-stained sword in her right hand.

The black legions continued their march.

The sacred Queen, pure as snow, sat peacefully.