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Rated: E · Poetry · Contest Entry · #2073401
The true cost of leadership
Sovereign Prison


From my gilded tower,
I look down on the fields,
and watch my subjects work the land.

From the sun-baked earth,
they peer up at my palace.
And we envy each other.

I am their sovereign leader,
their mother, their compass,
their bride.

They see my lavish palace,
and my golden treasures,
and they long to be free
of their strenuous existence.

I see their wide open spaces,
and their devotion and love,
and I long to be free
of the lonely mantel of leadership.

I am their Queen.
I have pledged to them my fidelity.
Although I am power, and strength
it is they who are free.

I am their masterpiece,
honored and revered,
yet untouched.

I am alone in my birthright,
I am the prisoner
in an immaculate cage.

Their freedom is my jailer.
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