She waves me on, 

Preoccupied, as she always is, 

By a diamond mirage 

And a ruby facade. 

 

I begin to speak, 

But what am I to a Queen?

 

She has built this castle

From dirt to a world of desire. 

I wonder what she sees through this veil of deception, 

If anything at all. 

 

But soon her throne breaks. 

Her castle crumbles. 

Her subjects walk away. 

 

I tell her what no one would. 

She opens her eyes. 

 

Walls once covered in diamonds, 

Her eyes still sparkle, 

But this time, with tears. 

 

At once, her scepter departs her shaking hands, smashing into mere fragments on the 

Now tattered red carpet that once accompanied her every step, now dampened by tears 

And covered in the shattered remnants of the illusion she once upheld. 

 

Each step into the broken glass, and out of her broken desire, blood is drawn and 

She is freed.