Queen Sophia is in trouble again,
But the sad thing is that no one
cares:
With maniacal screams,
And a poisonous red whip,
She scourges the peasant
Who steps out of line.

Her eyes glow with a molten
madness.
One glance from her diabolical
pupils
Would render a person
Into a quivering mass of jelly.

Her raven black hair writhes
Medusa-like with serpents.
Sulfurous blood drips down
her fangs,
And her mere touch is poisonous.

Patience is but a lost memory,
A gift that the gods stole away.
Silence is as forlorn as ashes
On a lost and lonely wind.

The peasants who can still move
Walk somberly with downcast
eyes.
There is an emptiness in them
That chills the marrow in
your bones.

Covertly, a little girl with a red dress
Watches Queen Sophia from
the shadows.
Elspeth's innocent green eyes
Are free from fear and darkness.

As Queen Sophia sleeps,
Elspeth's father injects Her Majesty
With a drug to induce
a deeper slumber,
While Elspeth patiently waits.

When King George signals her,
Elspeth unsheathes her dagger
Which is laced with nightshade
And plunges it deeply into
Queen Sophia's black, infected,
gangre-filled heart.

Afterwards, everyone celebrated
Sophia's demise.
The peasants unanimously
declared
King George as the rightful ruler.
He ruled with love until
his dying day.

When a year of mourning
had passed,
Elspeth became the Queen.
Both her hair and her aspect
Were sunny and rapturous.

The peasants were no longer afraid.
Elspeth treated them with kindness,
Unfailing love, and patience.
Everyone adored her, including
the children.

Meanwhile, Sophia's grave
Was lonely and forgotten.
No one either remembered her,
Or mourned her passing.

The forest reclaimed her dark soul,
But rumors still abound.
People say that on moonless
windy nights,
You can hear ghostly, maniacal
screams
Echoing around her grave. . . .





© Kris Bailey
11-12-20.