There have been ten of them—
drops of Rain in a greater Storm
drawn to her anyway,
to the lonely smile of the Queen of the Day.
In her reign ten faces have been by her side—
small, humble Mortal shapes to walk in her shade.
They made her laugh, the Solitary Sun.
Ten souls who taught her to once again have fun.
Always talkative, always kind;
it was with them she spent much of her Time.
Yet never once did she pick a consort to marry.
Of each potential King, part of her was always wary.
One lonely God, with a wise smile.
She hid all but current affairs in her land, her past as faded as its Shroud.
A layer of rolling white across the blue was the Sun's Mask.
As the Princess-Never-Queen was married to her Equestria—
no matter how disagreeable the task.
Over all these years only these ten souls could say that they knew her well.
The kind-heated Princess, with a secret patience. A God in all but her own View.
She got to live each happiness ten times over—her experience a pleasant repeat.
Until she had to bury each stallion that had become her sweet.
The Sun's God with a life everlasting wept at ten white marble graves.
Her tears dwindling in number with each name.
For the best at passing through Time's River was the mare who did nothing but wait.
The Princess who tried to change and bowed only to Fate.
For a while she would do naught but Remember.
She would stand calmly in the water watching drops roll off her feathers.
Memory after memory running of the white overlapped by shade—
Persuasive Time approaching Her heart until it forgot made the pain fade.
Everything she would not recall as strongly, the gardens acting as her Lethe.
Soon she would long to have another face beside her, a lover with whom she would share a great gift—partaking in her Eternity.
Perhaps if her last Companion had been too dear, she would wait longer—
as there was no harm that could come in waiting for Infinity should only make her stronger.
Sometimes years would pass and she wished only to Remember.
Here a token could be found passing between her hooves.
Her eyes would close and she might see again the beloved she had lost.
Once more her Heart would begin to defrost.
Like each passing Season, her Mirth would return.
There would be a new stallion with whom she was smitten.
Not even two centuries later would she say her Heart broke.
The Princess would find her way to the gardens where her sorrows would soak.
Her tears like the water would soon dry.
The Princess' smile would return.
But never would she be the one to put any sincere grin upon her face.
A smile upon her Monarch's Mask would only be restored by her next suitor's good grace.
Every word she tried to speak must be as Good as they saw her.
Her motivation to fix every mistake that still remained unspoken,
was to allow her subjects—Beloved or Everyponies—to treasure the Celestia they had sainted,
without knowing anything true of the ages past, in which her own actions had been tainted.
She was a God who treasured those beneath her,
as a bumbling foal might try to save every flower for its bright hue alone.
She was their God, and she could not define herself beyond her snowy fur.
Generous was she that unknowingly let others see her as they prefer.
Oftentimes she would pause in a hall, catching the scent of flowers.
That brought back memories of time spent with one of ten.
Laughs, tears, dances, outings together, and every kiss—
those were only a few of the things she would reminisce.
These ten drops of water, indistinguishable until they had been singled out—
clung to her, flattered her, and treasured her as she treasured them, despite their fragility.
Such simple creatures when they stood next to her Glory.
With each and every one she stepped into a new love story.
She found herself forgetting that when it came to ponies, their stories would end.
It was simply another denial to tally in her Mind, soon to be forgotten.
Ten mortal stallions who had made her Millennia bearable.
The same ten lives left holes in her already shredded Heart—which she would never acknowledge or admit—were easily repairable.
She was their Princess, their Protector, and their Shield.
None of her subjects would outlast her.
The words to describe the present of a life never-ending were not within her vocabulary—
all she could say was that in this World, no love of hers would ever tarry.
So she would sit on her regal throne with a Crown upon her head—
and every so often, sometimes centuries apart, there would be a rose at her hooves.
She would think of all the souls dear to her before this latest calling that she personally guided,
and of all the company that these dear ponies provided.
Over time those faces will fade, all that defined them softening until lines are blurred,
and they may have never mattered, as were they not disposable?
So many hundreds of the littlest statements are whispered in her unattentive ear.
Each and every one forgotten as long as ponies are near.
A mare who will do anything for superficial happiness cannot see clearly,
and find her thoughts are no longer true,
when she only Listens to what she wants to hear, now that any kind of Verity,
takes second place to her adoration and popularity.
She believes it to be the greatest Kindness,
an action performed by on the paragon of Generosity to allow everypony to see only what they want to see—
all without believing in Magic—
and being blind to how her own story has only become so tragic.
When ten simple lives have run out, ten drops of water return to the pool of their origin—
simple drops that shine with a certain clarity, falling back into place.
Yet there's hardly a sound to their name, any attempt at being remembered by all but her would be in vain.
As the last iridescent drop falls it's time for her to continue her Infinity and...
