She’s not perfect, but my love for her grows

Yet no one can tell

That sparkling eyes are dull and weak

With a lack of courage and a fear to speak

Skeptical detest extinguishes her dream

How amusing it must be to beguile my queen

What ghastly conceit must crawl to her feet

And spread through her veins to drive her insane

What fraudulent esteem still entraps my queen

What monstrous lies leads to her demise

But my queen is sharp

My queen is true

She sees all naughty scheme and keeps hidden her dreams

No one sees my queens greatest pain

For I am the one to wipe her crystal tears

To fight and protect her from all of her fears

Her majesty shall never fault

Yet they say she bleeds pure harlot’s blood

Her doves have come as crows at night

To whisper atrophy to her soul

To blacken her thoughts as dark as coal

As her majesties turmoil has already struck

My queen has seemed to run out of luck

With her kingdom in ruins she is free to find peace

God save the queen through her relentless decease