The blood of a thousand warriors on her hands
The stench of burning scales, flesh, fur
Surrounding her
She is a mistress with no army in which to lead
Their bodies are laying around her
Crunching under her feet
She is the only one left
A Queen of an extinct empire
Slain by the hands of her enemy
Satan
Her ex-lover
If she wanted to she could put
her dagger to her throat
with a flick of her wrist...
End her torment
But an unseen hand pushes her forward
She walks away
Striding out of Hell
With all the regal ness born to her
One last glance shows the carnage of a millennium of war
And an oath she will never forget
Author notes
To really understand this poem you would have to be a member of poeticdreaming.ning.com and read me and another's work....Aaron Maycroft...Its a collaboration we made up
Adding your comment: