Millions surrounding,
but not a sould could care,
The wooden bridge, about to break,
with such force slicing through the air.
I stand alone,
draped in shame and hackles,
A servant on a chain, I am, I am.
my ankles, my arms, covered in shackles.
I am no animal,
My husband, devine king,
It was supposed to be love,
when you offered me this wedding ring.
Let me be free,
Tis not my own fault, though no son I bore.
Crowd cheering, the blade is sharp,
As I hack across the creaky wooden floor.
Faces are grim, though a grin leaks through,
Shoving me into place.
For I am a queen,
this is much a disgrace.
Life memories flood my brain,
and I close my eyes, hoping to forget the pain.
Ropes untangle, my hands seem to grasp the wood,
in some subconcious fear,
The sound of releasing,
I know the end is near.
My eyes squeeze shut,
I still hear and see, but I can no longer feel.
My head is raised off the ground,
Is what I'm seeing real?
The crowd stops cheering,
I see a few heads turn,
I feel my senses numbing,
and it is then I learn.

 
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