They say tragedy is the fire that fuels creativity, That the greatest poems are of or by adversity.

They say sorrow is the reason for resplendent smiles, That the greatest mirth is a guise for the weariest miles.

They caution that appearances are often erroneous, That the strongest fighters have the weariest souls.

I wonder what adversities she holds back behind her eyes, That her verses shine like beads of dew in the morning sun.

I wonder what tragedies she hides under her guise, That her witty mirth shines stronger than the brightest beacon.

I wonder what vulnerabilities she hides in her lies, That she radiates confidence and boldness second to none.

Inapt though my inquisitions may seem, They are, however, part of a truer dream.

To look her in eye and behold, glean The secret of the strength they beam, a royal queen.