The victorious queen Fae

There stood a fair queen on the grand ivory bridge,
and she beamed down in pride upon her realm,
on her barbed stiff blossoming green mountain ridge,
rolling down into an opulent woodland of mighty elm.

It was a place greater than any man had ever seen.
And she stood there in splendour, in her prosperity
she kenned, all was corrected, whatever has been,
and her visions were strong again, with great clarity.

She could envision all happenings, quite unrestrained.
Nothing could go awry, the prize for her endeavour.
And she knew, it was all there, it was clear and plain
for she won it, the darkness had slept, now and forever.

Queen Fae's visions were back and gems shone bright,
as her delicate tulle gown fluttered like her wings,
the spirited queen had finally prevailed this hellish fight,
of men, of beasts, of sorcery, of the queens and kings.

River Ili now shone; it swept with a great panache
below the ridge; it will never be tarnished ever again
with the brunet smoke and cinder of the raining ash
She gasped, for it had all altered, manifest and plain.

We now have tattered pieces of poems, parts like this
From them, we build the lies and truth of Queen Fae's life
of her valiant wars, her dainty beauty and her loving kiss
of her glory, of her requital, of her grace and her strife