A Thousand Years From Forever IV

A Queen In Exile  
Scotland    
1700  
 
My Ladies-In-Waiting, I would like to know why I am having such illicit thoughts of a faceless man, who invades my slumbered dreams  
I am lost in this majestic fortress a floating oasis of desired streams  
His voice beckons me though a fog of forgotten time  
A kaleidoscope I cannot place, the windmills of his heart were mine  
How could that be, this is impossible, my Sire, went down in battle, his voice remains in rest, at best  
Unto my monarch the softness of my skin is shrouded in hart upon darkness’ reason  
For the love of a King, exile for such an act of treason  
As petitioned by the Roman Highest Cathedral a condemned sin  
Betrayal in the eyes of beauty, lust blinds mighty men in the sanctuary as Genesis’ temptation by the touch of soft skin  
   
How can such a beloved country continue to believe a Queen of once thriving Scotland and England will risk such shame  
To bring disgrace to my crown and on the virtues of my royal name  
I stand in false imprisonment under the laws of émigré of a Queen, please destiny this could not be my fate  
A Hebrew King who led his twelve Knights to a watery battle, in the end, in his honor, laws were changed incorporating two separate parliaments he will never know, the truth, and the sacrifice of his throne and the uprise and then overtake  
The two countries I my wisdom had to balance the success  
Made some foe and alleys from North to west  
The details of it equates, if only I could go back to that day to set that unfaith night right  
My words and not the taste of my lips would have sufficed my failed plight  
Not the presented unorthodox and anger in the King’s eyes sworn to see the destruction of thee  
In the entwined of a wrath of another King’s arms, exposing a plot of destruction powered by greed  
   
My Ladies-In-Waiting, I will walk the grounds, I must clear my head  
I cannot take another slumber upon a lumpy bed  
Once I close my eyes I long to bathe in the Nile  
To look up to see a Moons that stretch for miles  
Royal Balls and feast of grandeur  
Cradled within my handsome sire’s arm, his loving, his enticing whispers kissed to my ear  
I did not know the meaning of fear  
   
My Queen, please adhere  
The terrain is unsafe, and we do not advise to be long as we only want to see to your care  
And this is the bewitching hour we usually brush your hair  
   
My Queen, your Ladies-In-Waiting-have remained at your side  
During your unjust ruling by the Roman Church, we have endured the blasphemy remarks in stride  
One day you will rise  
Glory shall reign from the grace of your crown  
A handsome King will sit at your side, dignitaries shall kneel at your footstool surrounded by festal sounds  
You will always, in your three Ladies-In-Waiting eyes be our regal Queen of Scotland and England a Queen of peace, no matter where your heart may reside  
   
My Queen, please be careful, the terrain is getting slightly uneven as we continue to venture and there seems to be a patch of loose soil that is saturated and caving in  
Thank you, and we may return  
Yes, we will draw you a bath as the candles slowly burn  
Oh, darn it… help… help…  
My Queen...  
I cannot see her either  
Hold up the torch… I can no longer hear her screams of her yelps  
   
My Queen…My Queen….  
   
   
   
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