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.