Queen of Nothing

I sat in cherry
upon the hand-carved
throne of ivory
in an empty room
of chiseled stone
its vaulted ceilings
echoed with silence
black and white diamond tiles
patterning the floor
no woven tapestries
of virgins fair
or unicorns
softened the harsh space
the cold bitter chill
seeped into my bones
my breath an icy mist
frost licked at the
leaded windows
of this frozen dream
no servants to wait upon my word
no court held in my thrall
queen of nothing
of no one
not even myself
to command
I long to return to a
richer sanity

© 2017 Revised 2019 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved

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