Through Deprived Eyes

Perched upon her makeshift throne of frail bones and desperate men
She lives off the faint recollection of their sacrificial offerings
Funded through slave labour and their bloodied diamond sweat
Only reaching so far as to give them a hollow sensation of arousal
This the assembly of followers blindly selling their selves for an empires wealth
Singing songs of her immaculate beauty , and sweet loving touch
Oh , how perfect she seems;
Though , by no means a perfect queen

Sprawled out across his unfinished collection of eulogies and love letters
He basks In a shallow pool of regret and an unyielding jealousy
The uncontrollable notion of ownership over another
The fallacy of everlasting commitment
And the heavy weight of rejection
Come barreling through his psyche with the most honest validation
That his blind worship has euthanized his sense of self
Oh , how perfect she seems
Though , by no means a perfect queen

This fictitious portrayal of majesty may illicit sincere emotion
Though , a one way window can only reflect one aspect in solidarity
With the intent and purpose being coveted behind the panes of a thick facade
Calculated theatrics spurred from her self revolving universe
Sociopathic tendencies being conveyed as a gregarious personality
Deceiving deprived libidos with a sensation larger than life
Oh, how perfect she seems
Though , by no means a perfect queen