I wrote this poem a while ago. I’d like to say that the inspiration fro this came from some sort of gothic queen I had been reading about, but it didn’t. The kind of person I envisage is one who waits, listens, sees an opportunity and uses situations to their own advantage. She sits quietly on her throne, taking everything in, coldly, soullessly and unmercifully, ready to claim what is not hers and add it to her dominion. This is not the only poem I have written in this vein (as you shall see)
Dark Queen
You with your weird ways,
shrouded all your days
By eyes that never gaze heaven upwards.
Embalmed in your casket of discontent,
You damned queen,
you, who should have never been,
You have seen,
And you have heard the word that needs no deciphering.
You – who are cursed,
And lie immersed
And have conversed
With the ether of which dreams are imagined.
All dark tombs and empty wombs
Gape blindly in deaths catacombs,
The gloom and all that putrefies before the eyes
Flies gleefully towards you Queen
And flinches.
Lynda M Roberts © 2011
This is a revised and edited version of an unpublished poem I wrote 10 years ago. I feel that it’s enlightening to look back on work that isn’t quite finished and to renew using fresh eyes.
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