The Queen

Small in stature,
but mighty in mind.
She slithers up to her throne-
the highest in the world.
Unreachable.
Only she knows
how to ascend and descend.

Her crown is not her own,
But she wears it
with the most pride.
Sitting tall,
adorned with all the
biggest and brightest jewels.
Invaluable.

Her palace and gown
are drenched in green.
The colors change with her mood.
But only from green to black.

Her servants approach,
lowly in mind,
quivering in fear,
afraid to hear her next request
escape from between her fangs.
Each command
made with a hiss.
Her fork-like tongue
and sharp words
probe their ears;
make them bleed.
Trapped.

She wraps around them,
squeezing,
crushing.
Her next meal.
No servants are left.

She descends from her throne,
preying on the weak.
She finds small animals,
eggs.
Nothing satiates her appetite.

She turns to family,
devouring everything in sight.
Except the king.
He goes untouched;
unharmed.

No one is left.
The kingdom is empty.
No more servants.
No successors.
She is alone...
But her belly is full.

1/21/10 EF