A path of morning lit so bright,
Above those clouds I despised,
What a plan to begin this curious day,
Recalled me a time, still vivid in sight,
Marked that voice, of a wrinkled oldy,
A weak, brave voice still he\'s holdin\',
Along with me my tiny short hair,
I remember myself asking him boldly,
\"Does the beings I saw flew away,
Latter above the clouds one way?
Only queen I would rather be,
To place in this throne if they stay?
Instead those cushions in the high,
I\'ll make a couch below the sky,
I\'ll love and care and love again,
To make them stay, swearing to never lie.\"
A frank chuckles he possessed,
Breaking my daydreams to suppress,
I frowned my hands crossed on chest,
Only if he never left me curious.