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Courtly Life
We walk in step to the crimson stair,
Our paths determined by our rank and care.
At dawn, we follow the celestial display,
At dusk, we're swept in the imperial bouquet.
Our hair turns white, we mourn the fallen flowers,
We envy the birds soaring in the azure towers.
In this flawless dynasty of prosperity,
Our counsel is sparse, our voices an oddity.
Courtly life is a dance of power and grace,
A symphony of ambition, woven with lace.
As we march towards the halls of history,
We are mere players in the grand tapestry. |
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| tapestry |
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a piece of cloth with a pattern or picture that is created by sewing or
weaving different coloured threads onto a special type of strong cloth |
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