Why do you yet sleep, Princess?
You dream and are content,
But what you know isn’t reality.
The wisps of life pass you by,
Like the motes of dust,
That float about your resting body,
And yet you sleep.

Your countrymen call out to you,
“Wake, Princess!”
The curse that held you in your tower,
Has already been broken,
Like a dead leaf in a breeze,
Without pomp and spectacle,
And yet you sleep.

“Arise, Princess!”
They call again,
As grit from the ceiling,
Falls down on your bed.
Your chamber threatens to collapse,
To devour you like a great beast,
And carry you into the darkness,
And yet you sleep.

And sleep.