Sad Poems

Our Red Queen

There once came a day when the sun did not rise,
When the stars did not glow,
When the moon did not shine,
A day when their sun did not rise.

And then there was born, to this kingdom, an heir,
No longer did silence rule the still air,
But screams.
But screams.
Born into madness, our queen,
Our Red Queen.

Her black heart, in a puddle of blood, it lies,
Not beating, not throbbing, red the carpet, it dies.
Yet she lives.
Yet she lives.
Our Red Queen...
Our Red Queen.

Over this kingdom rules she,
She had long ventured past insanity's jaws;
Eyes zinc black,
She embraces the night,
Skin, pallid; pale
She spars with the light.

And we LOVE our queen,
Our Red Queen.
For she gifts us...with pain,
She does dance to our screams...
Our Red Queen.
Our skins make her robes,
Our teeth, her jewelry,
We are her servants, her slaves,
Her GIFTED, MERRY servants, we,
Who dance on the edge of insanity,
And we LOVE our queen,
Our Red Queen.

A blanket of thorns with which sleeps she,
A lullaby of screams,
To a lullaby of screams,
Our queen,
Our Red Queen.
To a lullaby of screams,
To a lullaby of screams,
She sleeps;
Our Red Queen,
To a lullaby of screams.

~Maya Wiley~