She steps onto the balcony, gazing
Far unto the edges of her reign.
Moonlight radiates strands of auburn hair
Eschewing from beneath her night bonnet.

The night is young, as she
What wanting and needing
Stirs within her about him
Knowing not whence he came.

Gently a cool breeze brushes her cheek
She closes her eyes, and cocks her head
Leaning on a palm which is not there
Eyes slit open and she sees her lover
She inhales and smells him
Opening her mouth tasting him
Like a snake would senses its prey.

The wind blows the echo
Of his whisper
Knowing not of her loneliness
For world shall never know
As she stands witness to mankind.

She was born with purpose
Loving all upon earth
Caretaker of this world.

Duty and honor her birth rights
Chastity and solitude her faith
No Man shall have her,
No man to hold
Born Shahenda,
“Queen of Queens”
The Watchwoman of time
The last wizard.