Joints creaking,
all strings attached
"shall we all join
the Queen's Deadly bash?"
Infringed upon a melody
of dark and bitter tang
for on the throne she no more sat-
instead, she's courting pain.
Reviled; Beguiled
to her it's all the same.
Just a face, and Icon
not be heard, but only seen.
Oh Queen, My Queen,
why do you bear such shame?
For velvet dresses
(like faded upholstery)?
Or a Raven's jewels
(tell me how caught, you Fools)?
Joints craking
all strings attatched.
Little. Macrebe. Doll.
Dressed up like a Queen
Give up your inane desire
and let the intrigues claim the liar

















15 old applause
