I read once that Nobility does well and is ill spoken of...They lead kingdoms and empires, septs and packs, doing all that they can for the benefit of their people whilst becoming known as tyrants or madmen. These are the sufferings a leader must endure in this age--burdens that are theirs and theirs alone to bear. And so, I found inspiration--a poem about what it must feel like to be a ruling Silver Fang-- from my own perspective...
A Galliard I am not... but nowhere is it written that words are for them alone.
A Galliard I am not... but nowhere is it written that words are for them alone.
The stars are very beautiful, above the palace walls,
They shine with equal splendour, still above far humbler halls.
I watch them from my window, but their bright entrancing glow,
Reminds me of the freedom I gave up so long ago.
The royal circlet of bright gold rests lightly on my brow,
I once thought only of the rights this circlet would endow.
But once I took the crown to which I had been schooled and bred,
I found it heavy on the heart, though light upon the head.
Although I am the head of state, in truth I am the least,
The true Queen knows her people fed, before she sits to feast.
The good Queen knows her people safe, before she takes her rest,
Thinks twice and thrice and yet again, before she makes request.
They will be all my children, all that I swore to defend,
It is my duty to become both Queen and trusted friend—
And of my children high and low, from beggar to above,
The dearest are my Heralds, who return my care with love.
The dearest are my Herald, swift to spring to my command.
Who give me aid and fellowship, who always understand
That land and people first have needs that I may not deny—
So I must send my dearest friends to danger—and to die.
A friend, a love, a child—it matters not, I know indeed,
That I must sacrifice them all if there should be the need.
They know, and they forgive me—doing more than I require,
With willing minds and loving hearts go straight to grasp the fire.
These tears that burn my eyes are all the tears the Queen can shed,
The tears I weep in silence as I mourn my Heralds dead.
Oh gods that dwell beyond the stars, if you can hear my cry—
And if you have compassion—let me send no more to die!
They shine with equal splendour, still above far humbler halls.
I watch them from my window, but their bright entrancing glow,
Reminds me of the freedom I gave up so long ago.
The royal circlet of bright gold rests lightly on my brow,
I once thought only of the rights this circlet would endow.
But once I took the crown to which I had been schooled and bred,
I found it heavy on the heart, though light upon the head.
Although I am the head of state, in truth I am the least,
The true Queen knows her people fed, before she sits to feast.
The good Queen knows her people safe, before she takes her rest,
Thinks twice and thrice and yet again, before she makes request.
They will be all my children, all that I swore to defend,
It is my duty to become both Queen and trusted friend—
And of my children high and low, from beggar to above,
The dearest are my Heralds, who return my care with love.
The dearest are my Herald, swift to spring to my command.
Who give me aid and fellowship, who always understand
That land and people first have needs that I may not deny—
So I must send my dearest friends to danger—and to die.
A friend, a love, a child—it matters not, I know indeed,
That I must sacrifice them all if there should be the need.
They know, and they forgive me—doing more than I require,
With willing minds and loving hearts go straight to grasp the fire.
These tears that burn my eyes are all the tears the Queen can shed,
The tears I weep in silence as I mourn my Heralds dead.
Oh gods that dwell beyond the stars, if you can hear my cry—
And if you have compassion—let me send no more to die!
((OOC- i didn't write the poem, they're song lyrics: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQtyZf1gzcM&feature=related ))
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