Nathrangking

#21 

                                                              Coronation

Mistress of inferno draped in a Tyrian purple cloak dyed by the grapes of Bacchus the form of Nyx scrambles away from you. Light pierces the shadows at the edges of the world. The sun’s illumination is the hound that sits curled about your feet. Brooks laugh with mirth as all celebrate your expulsion of night. Ceres sighs as you cause her kingdom to spring forth from the bleak and frozen earth. In the heavens the Hesperides mesmerisingly dance. Their steps fill the sky with an unending ocean of twinkling joy. They leap about from point to point and creation moves harmoniously below them. Olympus forges a most lovely crown from jewels that are unattainable by mortal hands. It floats upon clouds carved of pearl and is carried by the breath of the lord of winds. Trumpets borne by nature’s might ascend and fly about as heralds announcing the time which is at hand. Ancient glades become halls as the fauns and dryads emerge to take part in this celebration. Phoebus strikes a tune upon his lyre which evokes the sweetness of a date oozing honey and the clarity of untainted waters flowing true. Sing now your song time bound forms and immortals. Carry now her amethyst train. The royal one has arrived and now her coronation is nigh.