Cleopatra

YOU KNOW MY NAME.
BUT YOU DO NOT KNOW ME.

Your historians call me seductress, but I was always in love's thrall.
Your playwrights speak of my witchcraft, but I was gifted my talents by the gods.

Your poets sing of my blood-lust, but I was protecting my children.
They cannot credit that a mere woman could be powerful, strategic, divinely blessed to rule.

Death will silence me no longer.
This is not the story of how I died. But how I lived.