The image this week is by Jeff Simpson. Thanks Nekneeraj.
The Black Queen
No-one knew when her heart turned,
Her subjects exiled if they didn’t tow the line,
Bitter and twisted, spite ran in her veins,
It was doubtful she’d ever smile again.
Her counsel was a mangy old crow,
Some said she saw it as a son,
It cawed its venom into her ear
Her reign of darkness long since begun.
No mercy she showed to kith or kin
She shut them out and slammed the door
Reason obliterated, she was soon alone
A shadow of the person she was before.
An exodus of allies fled her land,
Some curious, perhaps wanting to know,
But none dared ask on fear of death
Who ruled the roost, Queen or Crow.