A thousand upon a thousand books surround me whilst I try to lay down many a thought.

So many dreams that they desire me to write down for you

And yet, the despair I feel as I try to become a better scribe at your northern Isle court

As I recount tales in hieroglyphs of your bravery and beauty to praise and beguile to.

The descriptions I drive into the stone never quite feel right to show devotion

To a daughter of Pharaoh’s who has her people entranced

With her stunning splendour and smooth motion,