She was the final sorrow before Avalon fell.

Yet indeed Avalon fell.

Oh! Queen of childhood dreams how shall my honor renew.

Oh. Innocence buried.

Rotten crow feast and rusted armor cannot defend your brilliant crown.

I scream to God it is she who wears the halo of thorns.

As I suck air from the rip of the spear of destiny as it weaves fate into my twisting guts.

Only a lost for you now.

Your poet stripped of every metaphor.

Who is your hero now?

Low down whore.

...queen no more.