Long Live The Queen
Letters To The QueenA poet rode
As letters he wrote
Letters to the Queen
Her regal Majesty
His tongue was tied
As though his heart had died
Then alone in the woods,
he was spiedSwords were ready to be dyed
Though it be most dire and grave
He spurred his horse on to be brave
But there were too many,
many a knaveThough yet spared an early grave
He had a thought:
The letters to his beloved Queen
Mirth stole the moment
Before the moment stole the mirth
Senseless writing
Letters to no one
He was all alone
And no one will read
His sanity scattered
And he had a thought:
The letters to my Queen
If I be bloody, dead, and gone
Perhaps then, you will have a chance
