At night I dream
of being the virgin queen
the rigid rod that fell
beneath the weight of air
I feel my ministers
rob my body seconds
after I close my watery eyes
Stealing England from my hand
Pulling fingers that danced
as pale, supple spiders
weaving the threads of
traitors and gentlemen
And I can only muse
with my dull, flat tongue
that had I known love, I would have
stabbed it in its heart
The final thrust I'd strike
with a dismissal so cold
gazing at the dazed dawn
from soundproof chambers
where the only cannon shot
to breach my inner sanctum
would be the one to fell England
and with it, me.
~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~
Masculine rhymes are from accents, Feminine rhymes are from disyllabia. <-- Poems ad infinitum
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