08/27/2026
She bore no frail or simple grace,
No quiet ivory of face,
Nor fragile flower of standard mold,
To be possessed or bought or sold.
Her beauty burned in crimson thread—
A crown of storm upon her head
Upon a barge of gilded light,
She moved like velvet, deep and night,
Adorned in shadow, silk, and gold,
A goddess carved in fire, untold.
With eyes that measured Caesar’s pride,
And drew Mark Antony to her side.
For hers was beauty forged in power—
No fleeting bloom of summer’s hour,
But sharp and fierce, a golden blade,
Where gods surrendered, kings obeyed.
Imagery creation using Midjourney
Imagery animated using Luma
Visual effects using CapCut
Music created useing Suno