It is quite sad
When a queen rules;
yet her people do not know her.
It’s even sadder
When a queen who serves;
gradually lost her identity.
She can’t find herself,
in the mirrors, in her clothes,
in her duties, in her commitments.
in her facades, in her smiles.
She just does whatever she needs to do, as a queen.
Subjecting herself to the King,
putting herself second to her nation,
submitting her worries and hopes to God,
diminishing her desires or hopes and dreams.
Establishing political ties,
lobbying people’s expectations…
(who are not even important to her).
(who are actually her strangers).
It’s as if whatever she wants, hardly matters.
She gives in, she gives in, she gives in.
Until some days she breaks,
in the shadows behind a closed door.
When she can’t breathe anymore,
when her tears drown her,
when she’s broken altogether.
She simply can’t recognize herself in her kingdom.
When she goes out for her march,
(a parade she dreads on the inside)
a show done, just to please the people.
The burden on her shoulders feels too heavy.
Like a cup of poison that overfloweth its capacity.
Yet through all toil and pain,
after losing all fairytales and ideals,
there’s One God keeping her alive.
Her, Lord. Christ.
A role model who subjects His Father’s will above His,
who patiently gives in to strangers whom He loves,
Always ready to serve, yet never complaining.
Dying on the Cross not for His own sake, but for others.
And constantly praying, so that His followers are safe.
Willing to sacrifice and constraint Himself,
for strangers who don’t even acknowledge Him.
And bearing all the weight of others’ sin on the Cross.
The cup a queen must take is nothing compared to the cup of Christ.
And deep down she knows, there’s One who’s keeping her alive.
For His eyes is on the sparrows, so why would He not watch over her, too?