Cleopatra

YOU KNOW MY NAME. BUT YOU DO NOT KNOW ME. Your historians call me a seductress, but I was always a slave to love. Your playwrights speak of witchcraft, but my talents came from the gods themselves. Your poets sing of my bloodlust, but I was always protecting my children. How stubbornly they refuse to acknowledge that a woman could be powerful, strategic, and rule by divine blessing. Death will not continue to silence me. This is not the story of how I died. But of how I lived. The voice of the queen that history sought to silence.