Forsaken Jewel

For about a 1,000 years or so

she lay awake in deep-packed snow.

They left her there as a sacrifice

to survive the bitter, unyielding ice.

She was too young, a burdensome heap.

And so the frost would be her keep.

The span of time did not permit

A single willingness to submit.

She kept eyes open, waited for melt

In the frigid dwelling she’d been dealt.

And when the ice would dissipate,

She would not linger, would not wait

To seek her wrath, her retribution,

To bring about the execution

Of hearty souls. It was foreseen.

For all would die. And she’d be queen.