She took across the desert,
As the Queen atop her beast:
Dizzied by the monsters,
Crossing over from the East.
Like locusts, they ate of the land:
The souls of native men.
Leaving orts of carnage in their path;
Hearts boiled by their sin.
They ravaged every dwelling,
With the fire in their breath;
With eyes of ired-color:
Prepared to take you to your death.
But she was of the Sparta;
Strength beyond compare:
Splaying monsters at her feet,
Where they would beg her in despair
Her golden curls, electric,
Like a lightning in the sky.
Her girlish grin, deceiving
As she screeched her battle cry:
“Beware! I’m coming for you.
You will not harm my kin.
You will not set the game of chess.
You are not welcomed in.
Take what’s left around you;
It’s all you’ll really get.
I’m gunning for the evil;
Don’t try to hedge the bet.
Your greed is old and tired.
Your lies are all but dead.
And if you push me to my limit,
I’ll have your feathered head!”
‘Twas then she took her mighty sword
And shook it in the sky;
Then looked at each and every one,
And stared them in the eye.
For spineless are the bullies;
And careless are the dim.
And she will not have the likes of one
Rule by evil whim.
As she sat upon her beast,
Royal, in command;
She saw the winds a changin’
As monsters came to understand.
The monsters whimpered quietly:
Scared and running fast.
And the Queen atop her mighty beast,
Had banished them at last.
The moral of this story,
Should you have to ask?
Stand-up against what’s harmful,
Regardless, of its task.
Top photo: Bigstock
