Nathrangking

I think that I can safely say that I am stricken.

Eternal Enthronement 

A flower, so pure as to cause the very idea of purity to drip the most unclean nectar and aura springs forth and grows upon the realm of mortal flesh. Perfume that gods and primordials quest for throughout the eons is a river flowing from the spirit of this most beautiful blessing bestowed by the divine. How it grows and calls with its ethereal voice the most striking and amazing music that is even conceivable. Passion summons mighty light that raises cities and kingdoms in no more than a single instant. Oceans and rivers slow if only for a moment so as to be able to capture that which mortal ears are blessed to hear and fewer eyes to witness. Minerva in all of her wisdom and Venus in all of the pathos that she inspires can only fade before she who now ascends to unseat even the most powerful goddesses. Jealous Juno removes from her head a circlet of gold and bends her knee in submission. Nyx, the most ancient one of the dark, is lost in the most wonderful warming light. Hathor descends into the sands and all-powerful Isis can do nothing, but return to whence she was first brought into the memory of the world. Newest mistress of all those who have come and gone your glow is so much greater than even that of the highest point of Diana’s silvery chariot. Nature’s splendor is fashioned after but the smallest fragment of the shadow of your spirit’s shadow. Can even Phoebus speak of you and not be stricken with a sort of dumbness as he seeks to sing the simplest praise. All of reality is nothing when you are absent and it seeks to place the circlet of the queen upon your brow. That most dim a crown would not add to that to which so little could ever be added. All call for you now that you are revealed to all to be truly most worthy in all of creation, of such a coronation. Let the throne meant from the earliest of days now be yours and all else answer to you until all ends and your light continues forevermore.