Page 217 of The Throne Seeker
“You beautiful girl,” the queen continued, stroking her hand. “I have one more favor to ask of you… I know you’re not fond ofsinging… but you have such a beautiful voice… I’d love to hear it… one last time.”
A suffocating silence filled the room. The request wasn’t as burdensome as used to be. The phoenix had proven it wasn’t tainted. Not the way she had once believed. It was a light, rather than a haunting shadow, a gift rather than a curse. As Rose looked down into the eyes of a dying woman, how could she refuse?
“I haven’t sung in some time,” Rose cautioned softly.
A weak smile formed on the queen’s lips. “I have a feeling it’s just as beautiful as I remember.”
Rose forced a tense smile, refraining from eye contact with the others, afraid that it would paralyze her into silence. Taking a deep breath, she clasped her hands together, and a soft, melodic voice flowed from her lips.
Frost clings to battered leaves
and petals’ velvet depths wane.
Gazed upon in rose-distorted glass
Frozen in time, it stands still.
Until summer comes.
When summer comes, you’ll be
near shores of high-rising tides,
feasting in grand halls under pale moonlight.
When summer comes, you’ll be
Dancing in a sea of orange hues
And playing in pearl granules.
When summer comes.
Frigid cold steals back happiness.
How can one season feel so endless?
Though you can’t skip a bitter winter,
Summer will never miss its turn,
Returned to rose-distorted glass
Until summer comes.
When summer comes, you’ll be
Looking up into icy blue skies,
or burning up next to amber flames.
When summer comes, you’ll be
Drowning in ocean depths,
Wishing you could stay.
When summer comes.
