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Regent in the Night

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Still left searching for the light,
I am but a regent in the night,
crowned by a flickering flame,
ruling all I dare to name.

Facing fathoms thick with dread,
I sail in search of a spark ahead—
a single sovereign, bright and true,
to pierce this heavy midnight through.

To set my veiled world ablaze,
and burn away this weary haze,
to let my faltering eyes yet see
a clearer destiny for me.

Armed with but a scepter of rhyme,
forged to outlast the fall of time—
not to wither on the crumbling page,
but to endure beyond each age.

So I scrawl these fleeting lines here,
hoping to make some meaning clear,
before the cruel light of dawn,
when this Queen is stripped to pawn.

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