Revelation in Fire/ Remade, Not Reborn

A fire unseen by others, yet for her- the whole world burned.
She walked through smoke, through silence,
down a path no map dared name.
Intangible chains, not of iron but of time, held her back,
woven through the bones of daughters before her.
And her crime- no dagger drawn, no oath betrayed,
only that she sought to shape her own fate.

When she ascended, they saw not her rise but her form,
the throne itself whispered, “she is a woman”.
She walked a stage of glass,
their eyes, torches, waiting for the first fracture, her impending fall.
Not a shred of kindness, not a moment of serenity,
only the never-blinking sight of the world,
ruling the verdict of her downfall.

Their judgment was the blade that seared her heart,
their scorn, the heat that sought her ruin.
Yet she did not bow, for this was no phoenix’s fall to ash.
Remade, not reborn, the fire turned to gold within her veins,
forging not ruin, but revelation.
And now, beneath a sky that watches all but remembers nothing,
alone she stands amid the flames,
her inner fire the perfect pyre,
burning not in defeat, but in defiance.