Lady Macdeath

Kiss of death
Since Macbeth
Ten days imprisoned
Within my ivory tower
Like a wilting flower
Other than a four hour
Sojourn
No conquests, at the Conquest
No swords, at my behest
Blood was spilt
Drawn through the eye of a needle
No daggers drawn
Or Mick Jagger yawn
No nice Chianti
Dripping upon my liver
Silenced lambs
That would make me quiver
I have returned to my retreat
My castle in the sky
Further recluse'd
And people shy
My belly empty
And my throat is dry
This virus
Is the reason why

by Jemia