If Only
What would it take....
With so much at stake
I, a Queen and you, below my station.
So we leave it to rumor and speculation without any hesitation.
Knowing there is more to risk than purely reputation.
I am selfish and cannot bare to part.
So I put matters of state behind matters of the heart.
At first, it was exhilarating.
Now it is exacerbating.
The agonizing option of love or power looms.
Pain of ensured separation consumes.
What would it take to make you understand?
Without an heir, my responsibility remains to this land.
Forevermore, I remain Virgin Queen Elizabeth beyond reproach.
You will be the last love to ever my bedchambers encroach.
Madness
Voices in my head loudly chatter.
All coherent thoughts shatter.
I stumble lost listening to the rain patter.
The hallucinations that unfurl before me do flatter.
My clothing is fashioned with rags a tatter.
Traces of blood from scratches a splatter.
Never silence, loud booming noises clatter.
But not all is lost, there are those that still matter.
Who am I? Why deary, clearly I’m the mad hatter.