Beneath the Queen's chair

In awe I lay upon the verdant knoll, mesmerised by the silent starry sky, a mirror gleaming deep within my soul, reflecting timelessness, I barely know. Venerate Venus dances in reverse, spinning our musings under mulberry moons, when we chased illusions, beneath the Queen’s chair, through realms where reasons dared not delve, our hearts lost in a cosmic haze. in this wilderness of mirrors, I hanker headlong into hallucinations, peering through perfect panes of promises, or is it prisms of pretences, till stars themselves begin to speak “She shall shatter your sureness” and you will gather the pieces like fallen constellations, too sharp to hold, too sacred to leave behind.