Corseted waist and straightened shoulders
Splayed on a throne of velvet gold
Porcelain face that wears a mask
Of half done tears and a smile cold.
She tosses the gold through her palms
It echoes through the mirrored hall
Diamonds that shine like sunlit rain
Keep her ebony eyes enthralled.
Now she plays a different game
With every move she falls lower
While listening to the wicked lies
Of a forgotten lover.
The very blood burns in her veins
Like fire from the land of dead
A fair silver tree with heaven to reach
Has been marred by scarlet red.
Delicate fingers encircle
Rusted iron bars
Soul sleeps slow in the lull
Between a thousand wars.
Anxious gasps and shameless smiles
Await her on a pedestal
A sterling blade, a common man
Now she shall meet fate inevitable.