There's not a kind hand
In all the land,
and I've come up here all alone.
♤
The blood of the dead
will dye the roses red.
♤
There's not much love
For the Queen of Love,
And now I'm up here all alone.
◇
The blood on the floor,
floods the walls to the door.
◇
It is better to be feared than loved
It is better to push than be shoved,
But now I'm up here all alone.
♧
The whispers in the trees,
Of a world on its knees,
The wars in the lands,
From the sea to the sands,
And a Queen who rises to her throne of gold.
♧
With the old bell's toll,
More heads will roll,
But now there's none to love me.
♡
You've lost their hearts,
Oh Queen of Hearts,
and now there's none to love you.
♡
The Queen of Hearts,
I tore love apart,
and now there's none to love me.
I took off their heads,
Now I've lost my own
Because now there's none left to love me.
》》》》》》》》》》》
Severed heads may raise your throne,
But now you're up there all alone.
《《《《《《《《《《
-Autumn
***********
I'm a huge fan of Alice In Wonderland, and love finding a sympathetic view of villians. I hope you liked this one! It's inspired by Alice in Wonderland, the Tim Burton version.
YOU ARE READING
Hiraeth
PoetryHireath: (n) A homesickness for a home you can't return to, or that never was. For the home I haven't yet returned to. ***************************** A book of poems and the occasional response to writing prompts. Or both. My es...
