Tainted royalty,
a little glitter on her rags.
A dress of violet,
once form fitted to her every curve now sags from the life that's been sucked out of her.
She once knew her identity
But her crown is covered in the fingerprints of those who have passed it around like a toy.
She used to gaze at her beauty in the reflections of gold,
but they've taken that too,
leaving her with nothing to remind her of the nobility that lies within.
Remnants of a queen.
Told one too many times she was just a pauper.
You can see by the jaded glimmer in her eyes she's lost all her fight.
"If that's who you say I am, that must be who I am."
Where are you I AM?
King Yahweh, my Father.
Come lavish me in your distinction.
Come rescue me from these lies that mask my inheritance.
Lock me in the highest room of your castle
I never want to look at these city gates again.
I want to KNOW who I am, I AM.
I want to feast in your courtyard,
put back the meat on these dry bones.
I will then wear the gown of your choice,
and they will know who my Father is.
For they will see the transformation.
They will know the mark or resuscitated beauty.
The glow in my face.
The posture of my head, held high.
The warmth of my love.
All remnants of a KING.
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