The humor the Queen exuded,
Roared empty hosts
Scouting for vogue and favors.
Their laughter made her the center.
Her power made her a de facto fester.

Rapport-builder was her
Title to the asleep.
Hubris was her
Signature to the fortunate sobers.

Pity was the Queen, who donned
The tottering crown framed by
Bees and honey. 
For her
Pride in replacing those
Soulless pawns,
Would soon be tarnished by
The avenging leeches
The confectionary crown summoned.

Listen,
Young creature of immense possibilities!
Even heavenly benevolent gods
Pray for your escape out of the
Endless blight.
For as soon as you are awaken,
You must be nauseated by those
‘Dreams of love and genuine care’.

Disillusioned will you be
As you see
Sickening travesties and
Lunatic dares:

Dares of betting the reign’s successors
In the endless throne of
Bees swarming for
Toxic sweets.