She judged death as a despondent end of her own entity.
Her soul flourished in distinction within her community.
She watched everyone else be misplaced in name,
So she vowed to always be a big star through fame.
Her death was dreaded by a population.
Her honor was only too good to be her true vocation.
By chanting above the seas, and walking in endless pride,
She knew it would be unreal for her to live off this ride.
Just for a great glory she flew above the sky–
She feared a life not so high would leave her blind in the eye.
She wandered along the soil, desperate to keep her high nobility.
A nomad for fame, she saw no need for humility.
She knew one day cascades filled with the memoranda of her glory would be dispersed
This would leave her alone, let her obscurity leave her at her forever worst.
To not be the center of attention was to be strayed at sea.
Her eternity would force her to remain under a palm tree.
She feared this very day until it came.
She predicted that her heart would be burnt by a searing flame.
She can now only reach fame through her end, and she could never be at peace.
She could only sit around until the day that she would be deceased.
The death of her name,
And her nonexistent fame,
It all seemed to make her world collapse.
But when she was able to pick up the scraps,
She learned this:
Life should always be a bliss.
And the passing of a great King,
Could lead a society to vociferously sing.
So the end of her reputation was not a murder,
But rather a cure to such a disorder.
Her livelihood became free–
And she felt that she could forever swim in the sea.
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