Elizabeth’s Prison

The crown is my prison,
Holding all the things the
True me desired locked
Forever in the Tower of London

My mother, Lady Greensleeves
Felt the deadly weight and
Only required a few moments, before
Being relieved of it

A French sword painted with
Her red blood told me
All I ever needed to know
About my future chains

I have loved and hated,
Smiled and wept,
Been gentle and violent
In a repeating circle

The one I leaned on,
Who held my hand and had
Seen all my emotional ties
Left me in death

Now I am alone

And only the Queen of England
Can I ever be…

Armada Portrait