Shackled in silver
weighted in gold
how many lies,
have never been told?

Fine-feathered true
where winds disembowel
A pretty mouth is
turned rotten and foul.

Crusted in diamonds
Caught between teeth
where did she fall,
the girl who was Queen?

Her reign all but ended
A sad story, true
weavers of wishes hold
effigies of you.


Penned by my hand on the 6th of Ultio, in the year 121 AM.