Princess On A Train, The Train

Today I have for you the story of a girl on a train. The story of a girl of such ethereal beauty, abundant character, and brazen intellect that one could hardly consider her real. The story of our lady, that one who is champion for us so that we may live again in that kingdom of golden plenty. The story of that girl who is the light when all is in darkness. The story of that one who I only hope that someday I can be compared against in half as favorable a light. Please enjoy the poem today. This one means a lot to me.

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Our Lady, The Traveller

So many fears

And so many tears

The story of a girl on the subway

A girl crying on the train

A girl with eyes so vibrant and beautiful

The war for Helen of Troy might seem like a playground spat

Were she now to be the focus

This girl on the subway

With jet black hair

And the fairest of skin

Sweeter than honey

Feeling less than sunny

The days for her

Already long

Grow longer still

She waits for her mind to come home from war

For her love to come knocking at the door

Staring out the window

Seeing stations pass by

She tells herself that little lie

“I’m ok! I’m alright,” she’ll cry,

As her manicured nails dig into her thigh.

Recalcitrant as she is

In her rebellion against the crown

She fears now the forces rallied to her opposition

As their war horns sound

But our lady, my lady

The princess and heir

So beautiful and fair

Those horns that sound

Her allies to her aid

Riding down the mountain in that most righteous cavalcade

That girl crying on the subway

She’ll find the words with which to say,

“I’m ok. I’m alright.”

And on that day,

She’ll have the strength to fight.