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The Woeful Tragedy
The Woeful Tragedy
1 min
95
Alone she walked in despair,
No one to talk to,
Not a soul to see,
All she had was the touch
Of the sweet waves,
Of the winds sighing through the deserted grave,
Tears dwelled in her mournful and guilty eyes,
She glanced at her frail hands,
Reflection of her pale face,
Once so blooming and aglow,
Her bare feet scraped by the soft sand,
Glancing at those feet belonging only on the royal carpet,
She whimpered as she laid,
The freshly picked flowers of love,
On the grave of her parents,
It was one day to twelve months,
Of surviving on this island,
Alone.
Is tomorrow the day to be celebrated?
No, A day to be mourned,
The death of the King and Queen,
The death of the cuddled princess from whom arose a little girl,
A girl left alone.
