A Crown of Constellation
A crown of constellation rests upon her head.
A child born of a prophecy of catastrophes ahead.
Warmed by a dragon's breath,
Clothed by a fur of death,
Dancing among tragedies, disgracing the swans.
She never tangles the thread of her pawns.
She, to death, is an ally of peace,
To life, an irritating tease.
Falls into my arms in a gleeful way.
The fate of light never sees a peaceful day.
Down it comes a sudden thought.
Do I deserve her or do I not?
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