I often like to write poems outside my normal oddness, this is one such poem. Enjoy! |
-The Queen Is Dead- by Keaton Foster The headless queen Sleeps at my feet Tears did she weep I am no man of honor But rather A desperate monster I was sent by another Driven to kill her An offer was made One that I Could not afford to refuse I rode in unopposed My dark horse An iconic marker of death Causing those brave few Who stood in her honor to flee My burning eyes A clear sign of a man set aside My weapon of utter death Unsheathed Appeared always ready to kill Upon a moment’s notice I could use it to cut another down Wisely the villages all fled Foolishly the kingdom guards Fell dead Upon my horse called the end We stood in the courtyard of royalty The queen was left alone Naked and exposed She knelt down before me And asked me for forgiveness I assured her there was none She begged me to consider mercy I assured her that I Was incapable of as much After her attempt at bargaining Had failed Once all reason Was fooled She quietly said My executioner Do what you’ve come here to do Let your sword be true May I feel none of what is due I stepped down from my steed At her side With purpose I stood From her point of view I’m sure that I appeared as a giant From my point of view She appeared fragile and helpless The angle for my one and only strike Was just right I raised my sword up high Like a thousand angry men I knew that I must swing But before I did I whispered into her ear Thy queen of all men But I This is not personal I was offered something Beyond all refusal You must die So that another can live Be assured that your death Will be less brutal And more swift Now if you please Make your peace with God When Amen crosses your lips I will strike you down I will separate your head From your crooked spine Severing all that makes you Royalty in this world of men With little to no gallantry With little to no sympathy Unopposed There I stood and waited She made her peace She cried her tears I am unsure if they were Tears of joy or tears of fear Either mattered none at the time But I must admit that later Such a distinction Would get under my skin And there it would always remain The sweet words amen crept out And with all the kindness That I could muster With all the precision That I could afford her I brought my sword down With a force no doubt Greater than the one applied It sliced though her neck Like the wind cutting through the air Only stopping when the blade Crashed the ground Her head rolled away As her body fell in place All that made her alive escaped All that made her the queen Was slain by these hands Proof would be required I placed her head in a sack Upon my steed I screamed Back to the kingdom of no man Once there I placed her head At the feet of the being That had something Far more valuable to me Than any queen That I refused to believe I said to that being The queen is dead I’ve brought you her head Proof of her calamity And the payment for what You have promised me Pay up Deliver me my prize What was required to make me Kill the queen of every man But you and I At my feet he delivered What was once lost to me At my feet he returned What was once stolen from me Her name is Isabelle My one and only precious child As soon as she looked into my eyes No doubt noticing a change She asked Father what have you done I replied The queen is dead… The Queen Is Dead Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014. |