The Queen of Needles【POETRY】

The Queen of Needles

The Queen of Needles sits upon her throne
Built upon the skull of her own,
Her kingdom is herself and her trial
And here she is, with all her bile.

She walked her boots through mud,
Drug her bloody feet to the water,
Cast herself forward
Only to falter and falter.

Each needle in her side staggered her gait,
Pushed her back but always ahead,
A head that would not fall
After tears began to crawl.

She remained alive and it was all that she needed,
For with time came death and death came life;
Her bruised hand thought twice
About plunging that knife.

And here she is today, with all her bile,
Now she may rest for a while.
Her scars healed and screams softened
Not for some time will she need that coffin.