Poetry: The Princess Refuses to Give Up Her Sword

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He sleeps in his chair
Very much like his father did
before him.

Tiptoe around him
don't make any loud noises
he is resting

They all hold their breath
to not rouse the slumbering dragon
to keep the peace.

I refuse to be cowed
I give him his space
I grant him his peace.

But while waiting for him
I write my words
and refuse to let the world pass me by.

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