Still Good to Be Queen

Heavy is the head that wears the crown
be certain their queen is draped in a gown
for the past of sexual desires is well known
their queen is never left alone

the courtships have no completion
her people will watch and pray for no secretion
letters are written by candlelight and are reincited
old flames have begun to become reignited

glancing without lust, or kissing without love
the queen is collared to a new man with her crown
she is whipped into submission
on her knees, her head bowed down

her people do not see the hate, do not see the need to kill
her head no longer heavy, her head no longer beautiful
hair dirty, gown long tossed aside
she weeps for repent, she weeps for her prince

the castle now under siege, she is left to defend
soldiers die, other countries beg to advance with aid
blood is laced in her hands like a pair of velvet gloves
the towering silence obliges her to aberration

a rusty throne, toppled with lust
'still good to be queen' she ask
a rusty heart, toppled with hate
'still good to be queen' she begs for an answer

her king never shows his timorous face
her people dead, their blood laced in her gloves
her lust, dead as are her eyes
her reign, sets with the west sun

'still good to be queen' she answers
the wind taking her breath away.