...A bride of war, yet dressed in white,
Her vows were sung beneath moonlight.
The unicorn, wild as storm and sea,
Bowed low to her divinity.
She touched its brow and sang its name,
And thus it bore her into flame.
An army rose with iron breath,
To claim her lands, to deal her death.
But she stood firm, with harp and horn,
And sang the song of stars unborn.
Her music broke the spears in flight,
Turned wrath to weeping, hate to light.
And when the battle ceased to be,
Her song remained—a melody.
Now legends say she walks the spheres,
Her voice still echoing through years.
A bride of peace, a flame unshamed,
A name the stars themselves have named.