A lone blade of grass; born upon the circumstance of crown Royal appurtenance short lived A deception by blood; set forth a justification of future treason Mother loves another; cast away by a listless thought of lust Who now claims an undesirable? What place does discarded luxury have? They see you as nothing; to bandy the living as if insignificant From the comfort of nobility to the pits of manmade avarice But you have something still; polish and a blackened heart He leads a conquest that will eradicate your people; but you pay no mind In you a purpose seen; the remnants of a golden past Chance given though unusual; in return a want naught but of loyalty A request for your voice made; discovery of love that smolders deep within You had the chance to flee; but what was there to go back to but treachery? Home was found with them; built upon the ashes of your erstwhile culture Allegiance burned through your heart like a field on fire; blind obedience replaced by devotion You become something entirely different; the betrayed who became the final betrayer A princess of nothing who would bear a burden of drastic decimation La Malinche; a malachite conqueror born upon the circumstance of abandonment
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