Uneasy lies the head
That has to wear the crown.
To keep her minions in their place
She only needs to frown.

She sits upon her thorny throne,
The floor’s covered with human’s bones –
Issuing her command edicts,
Her minions, she condones.

Beyond the pale, there is no grey
It’s only black or white
Her enemies dead around her feet
She expresses her delight.

While black clouds loom, and lightning flashes
Count the seconds, thunder crashes
Fools and dogs stay out to harm
They dance around – the Dance Macabre.

The Perfect Storm begins to form
While winds and waves grow large,
The crew that forms the Ship of Fools
Are loaded from the barge.

The sick, the lame, half dead, and maimed
With withered limbs and more,
The idiots and intellects
Are those that she abhors.

She’ll brook no interference
From those whom she seeks counsel
Tho’ she thinks she’s omniscient
Her rules go round like carrousels.

Her ego thrives on victories
Won in thoughts and words and dreams
Her evil grasp in thoughts, on lips
Begin to slide from her wicked grip.

From deep within her beleaguered cave,
Which lay deep beyond her victim’s graves
The ruling crown gained weight and girth
Whilst bowing head towards dampened earth.

Rituals and incantations
Magic spells and conflagrations
Sacrifices, animal and human
Brings powers back that are inhuman

Safe in the glow of her diamond hard light
She walks the land and rules the night
If your path and hers may cross
Your human life is certainly lost.

What once was strong, then became weak
Rose up again, no longer meek.
Do not seek to find her out
Or your mortal life will be snuffed out.

©warmonger62 February 2012
®Registered 2002 Snow Leopard Animation