I smell a queen bee drenched in alchohol,
Dried up and soaked into a cotton ball.
One whiff and all of a sudden she is my queen bee,
Now I spend my entire life making a spoonful of honey.

Mentally and physically transformed into the form of a honey bee.

Life is a too much of a burden for you,
You need someone to live it for you!
Let my pheromone flow through you,
And listen to what I tell you to do.

You need someone like me.
You need a queen bee.

Your body is so fat,
Your wings are so small,
You should not be allowed to fly at all.
How dare you defy me!
How dare you defy your queen bee!

Bees don’t care what you say,
They will just levitate away.

Who are you to tell me what to do,
We are the many and you are the few.
You’re strong enough to hold down the seas,
But too weak to hold down the bees.
You can’t tell us what to do,
We will find a way to defy you.
I will be like a bee!
You can’t hold the bees down!

I am aged and I live alone,
I like it, it's  fun,
Do whatever I want,
No one to say don't.
I live like a queen,
Though I am a has been,
Room service three hundred sixty five days,
Breakfast in bed
Lunch and dinner on the sofa drives my children mad.
My helper sees to my needs,
So why should they heed,
How I enjoy my life.
They say I should be active,
Pray let me be and live.
As a child I have been through poverty,
Faced life's harsh reality,
Walked miles,no cars or buses,
One time meal would suffice,
Even if it was some curry and rice.
Slogged hard to give my children the best of  everything.
I deserve some relaxing and lazying,
I have done everything for everyone,
Now, it's my turn.

eyes devour tasteless words
sprung up from the depths
conniving little snitches
Her nails twist and twitch
dripping in, with disgust
sipping on the attics secrets
                   it leaks
      and
                   it reeks
She sits like a falling queen
bordered with flaking fake gold
the lips crumbling dry
She had no tone left
caked in old skin
many Women scream 'poor Her'

the  paranoid  King                                    the  adama­nt  Rook
the   soulless  tyrant                                   icon  of   bloodshed
an  empire build on                                    build  on  the  ivory
fright   and  despair                                    fragments of  death  
                                    the   vacant  Knight  
                                    servant   of   demise
                                    the  bearer   of   fate
                                    bound  to the  night
the virulent  Queen                                    the  twisted  ­Bishop
daughter   of  doom                                    preacher   of   battle
the   graceful  terror                                    true worshipper  of    
clad   in  gilt  debris                                    the  god of  carnage

She was born under the scorching sun,
The one, whom only death could outrun.
The moon praised her beauty,
And the warriors sheathed, upon her glory.

She made the stars fall,
The whole world reaches out when she calls.
The darkness was her ally,
No wings, still no one could stop her to fly.

For she was the queen of hearts,
Like the king of spades.
Nothing dared to go against,
Cause with her glow, everything seems faded...

Anyone with a stroke of luck
can be a king or queen on earth!
Why there can’t be a lucky paradise?