By R.S Winters
Ever since I woke.
I've been living on this throne.
I’m told “it's the heavy head that bears the crown.”
With incentive of gold and prized gowns
My aspirations should suffice for now.
The pretension of order by the dignitaries.
Playing games of Kings and Queens.
Surrounded by hoards of thieves
The kyriarchy pleads,
To pierce the flesh of the weak.
You must collect your corpses without me.
I am claimed by the witch in the east.
Pacing on the dark side of the forest like a cursed beast.
A barbarians patrimony,
Believed wicked,
Visually decrepit.
Turn me to ash before I'm dragged away.
Because she dared to evade,
The worldly knowledge,
Of the homicidal brave.
Burn me at the stake.
Because there's such power in it.
That emanates from being set alight half alive.
The trembling in their eyes,
So their righteous minds can justify the social roasting of a life.
To tie a body down, to hold it hostage.
A singular soul that could destroy thousands.
The flames absorb her last breath of contempt.
We need to know that her ashes were cleansed.
The phoenix of fear rises and spreads
A sweet lullaby for an eternity.
They will hymn "remember me"
Nothing is more nostalgic, Nothing ever will be.
The horrors of my non-existence.
Will never give you peace.
And I dream of being she.
Once I wholeheartedly believed
We built this fortress so we could be safe.
But You moved all the pieces,
To cast me out of what we made.
Your legacy was to lead.
That was never my fate.
I'd kneel at your altar.
Make all them pray.
We were unstoppable.
Then you threw me in the cage.
You gave me all the reasons to plot my revenge.
Facade it in honour and justice.
As I took my aim.
Aren't we all just fools in the making
Pawns for the taking.
And Blood will always bleed.
Who am I to disobey.
I just need to see your reign end.
This is the closest to you I've ever been.
I'll bury you in the hurt I felt.
When love turns to hate.
The intensity remains.
Till death was the pact we made.
And I will see the debt paid.